


Safe and Mine

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Evil!Raúl, M/M, Marriage, Married Couple, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spain, Spanish National Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando marries his first love, Raúl, a rich man. After the marriage he goes to live in his husband's large, isolated household in the country. He has access to every part of the household except one room. It doesn't disturb him until one night he wakes up and doesn't find his husband next to him and when he goes out to look for him, sees him coming from the direction of that room...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue & One

**Prologue**  
  
 _For Fernando it was love at the first sight. He expected it to be one of the young, doomed loves, he didn‘t hope for the man to ever look his way. But he did._  
  
 _Raúl González, one of the richest men in Madrid, set his eyes on him. Incredible as it was. Fernando was from a good family, good, but poor. Once maybe rich and respected, but now nothing more than a few trinkets and old portraits remained in their family house that desperately needed a reconstruction. In the society where marriage was more about uniting families to get more power, where it was all about the fortune and the dowry and nobody cared about feelings, Fernando felt like a small miracle was happening to him._  
  
 _Initially he even suspected Raúl‘s interest in him wasn‘t genuine, or rather, that his interest in Fernando only involved his body. He knew men like that, men his mother always warned him about. But Raúl was nothing like that. He would take Fernando for dinner and never try to make him drunk; on the contrary, he would always hire a carriage and wait to see Fernando safely arrived home. He never touched him in an inappropriate way. He talked to him about books, about his passion for horse-riding, his estate in the country, about his business even, which was a sign of complete trust._  
  
 _When he asked for Fernando’s hand, the whole city of Madrid didn’t talk about anything else for weeks. The gossip was omnipresent, people wondering what made a man like Raúl González fall in love with a nobody like Fernando was. But Fernando didn’t mind and so didn’t Raúl._  
  
 _The marriage was the event of the year, and as much as it made Fernando nervous, it was one of the biggest weddings the city has ever seen. Raúl wasn’t only rich, he was powerful as well. To attend his wedding was a sign of prestige._  
  
 _Raúl was shining with pride, Fernando was happy, Fernando’s mother crying of happiness. Everything looked like a perfect beginning of a fairy-tale._  
  
 _And they shall live happily ever after..._  
  
 **Chapter I**  
  
The carriage jumps up on some bigger stone and Fernando laughs. Raúl just lets out an annoyed growl, but when he sees Fernando’s face, he can’t help but smile.  
  
“Look,” he says then and points out of the window. “Can you see it?”  
  
“What?” Fernando asks, looking in that direction.  
  
“You can see my mansion, right there on the hill...”  
  
Fernando finally sees it and lets out a surprised gasp. The mansion is huge, with a big garden. It looks a bit strange, surrounded by the wild nature. Like it simply fell off the sky in that place.  
  
“It’s quite... isolated,” he notes.  
  
“My great-grandfather was a strange man,” Raúl says. “He didn’t like company.”  
  
“There are no other houses?”  
  
“Not anywhere near,” Raúl says. “Why? Are you afraid alone?”  
  
“I’m not going to be alone, am I?” Fernando smiles.  
  
“Of course not,” Raúl assures him. “Even when I’m gone, the house is full of people. Well, not full, but there are people.”  
  
“Do you have many servants?”  
  
“Not really,” Raúl shakes his head. “Just as much as I really need. My ancestors thought they needed twenty people to polish their silver cutlery, but I’m not so crazy.”  
  
“It sounds like most of your ancestors were strange madmen,” Fernando muses.  
  
“Of course they were. Two or three of them actually ended up in a mental asylum. I think my great uncle was hunting people instead of foxes. And my aunt could communicate with the dead. Her grandmother was a witch burnt at the stake during the times of the Spanish inquisition.”  
  
Fernando opens his mouth.  
  
“You’re making it up,” he says then.  
  
“No, I’m serious.”  
  
“I don’t believe you.”  
  
“You don’t?” Raúl folds his arms.  
  
Fernando just grins and looks out of the window. The mansion approaches and he can now see the windows, some of them already lit. It’s getting darker quickly, almost like they are riding into the darkness and the darkness swallows them until the only light they can head to is Raúl’s mansion, Fernando’s new home.  


 

* * *

  
The carriage stops in a vast yard in front of the mansion. A group of men exits the house and waits at the doorstep until Fernando and Raúl walk up the marble stairs.  
  
“My household,” Raúl says.  
  
Fernando looks at the men. There are six of them. It almost seems too little to Fernando when he sees the immense house.  
  
“Let me present to you Fernando, my husband,” Raúl says with a proud smile. “Make sure to make all his wishes come true. And I warn you, he loves cakes!”  
  
Fernando laughs.  
  
“That’s perfectly fine, sir,” one of the servants says.  
  
“I suppose,” Raúl nods. “This is Juan and he makes delicious cakes.”  
  
Fernando shakes Juan’s hand and smiles. Raúl nods to another servant.  
  
“This is Álvaro, the butler. He is in charge of the house. If you need anything, talk to him.”  
  
“Anytime, sir,” Álvaro nods, shaking Fernando’s hand.  
  
“Pedro takes care of the horses,” Raúl continues. “And Jesús and Iker are the reason why this house is still standing.”  
  
Then he looks at the last servant who is standing there with a shy smile on the lips, looking at Fernando curiously.  
  
“Oh, and Silva. He... well, he polishes the cutlery,” he chuckles. “But he does it well.”  
  
Iker and Jesús go to collect the luggage from the carriage while Silva lights the way for them with a lantern. Juan returns to the kitchen and Álvaro leads them inside.  
  
“I didn’t know your wishes, sir, so I prepared a guest room as well,” he says.  
  
“A guest room?” Raúl smiles. “But my husband is no guest, it is my husband. Of course he will sleep with me.”  
  
Fernando blushes involuntarily.  
  
“Then I will tell Iker and Jesús to put the luggage there,” Álvaro says. “The dinner should be ready in an hour. If you wish to refresh yourselves after the journey, Silva prepared a hot bath.”  
  
“Thank you, Álvaro,” Raúl nods. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  


 

* * *

  
The dinner is delicious and there is indeed a splendid cake at the end of the meal. Fernando doesn’t remember ever being hungry and doesn’t think his mother to be a bad cook, but truth is they never had three courses at the dinner.  
  
Silva collects the plates and leaves the dining room without a single word.  
  
“Is he always so quiet?” Fernando asks.  
  
“He is,” Raúl smiles. “I think Jesús and Álvaro know how to make him speak, we, common mortals, don’t have such powers. But he is a nice boy.”  
  
Fernando smiles and drinks the rest of his wine. He doesn’t want to get up from the table because he knows what will follow. They haven’t yet had their wedding night, as the wedding banquet went on almost until morning and they were leaving the day after. It is a tradition to consummate the marriage in the common home after all.  
  
Raúl gets up and Fernando follows him hesitantly. When they enter the room and Raúl lights up the gas lamp on the wall, Fernando feels like running away. He sits on the bed and waits, not knowing what to do. Raúl joins him and looks him in the eyes.  
  
“Are you nervous?” he asks.  
  
“A little bit.”  
  
Raúl smiles and pats him on the back comfortingly.  
  
“We can wait if you are not ready.”  
  
Fernando shakes his head, feeling the blush creeping up his cheeks.  
  
“I’m not a kid anymore.”  
  
Raúl kisses his cheek.  
  
“Of course you are not.”  
  
“I trust you.”  
  
“Alright. You know I would never hurt you.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Raúl turns his face to him and kisses him slowly. Fernando melts into the kiss, hands reaching for Raúl’s shoulders. He doesn’t even notice when Raúl unbuttons his shirt and slides it off his shoulders. Suddenly Raúl’s hands are caressing his chest, sliding up and down and then moving onto his back. Then Raúl breaks the kiss and his lips move onto Fernando’s neck and down, until they land on Fernando’s nipple. Fernando lets out a surprised gasp when Raúl circles his tongue around it. Before he can collect himself, Raúl’s hand drifts down into his lap and begins to palm him through his pants. Fernando closes his eyes, more because he’s embarrassed than to savor the feeling, and he almost jumps up when Raúl curls his hand around the bulge in his pants. Raúl kisses him again.  
  
“I’ll stop when you tell me.”  
  
Fernando opens his eyes and looks in Raúl’s.  
  
“Don’t stop,” he whispers, raising his hips slightly to meet Raúl’s hand.  
  
Raúl smiles and undoes Fernando’s pants, pushing him back to slide them off. Then he takes off his own clothes. Fernando stares at him, convinced he has never seen someone so beautiful, even though he doesn’t have many references he could compare this sight to. He doesn’t stare at naked men every day.  
  
“You are beautiful,” he whispers.  
  
“No, darling, you are,” Raúl says.  
  
Fernando turns his head to the side and notices the vial of oil on the nightstand. He wonders who left it there, and when he imagines Álvaro, or pretty much anyone of Raúl’s household, the blush spreads even to his chest and he kind of wishes he was dead.  
  
“You’re too tense,” Raúl says. “Relax. Lay down on your stomach.”  
  
Fernando eyes him for a moment before complying. Raúl pours a bit of the oil on Fernando’s back and starts massaging it into his skin, sliding up and down his spine. Fernando almost feels like falling asleep when suddenly he feels Raúl’s finger probing at his entrance. He sucks a breath when it slides inside.  
  
“Alright?” Raúl asks and Fernando just nods, unable to speak.  
  
The second finger slips in and Fernando whimpers a little at the intrusion, wondering how on Earth is Raúl’s member supposed to... The third finger convinces him that he can take more, despite his body fighting it. It feels strange and uncomfortable, although it doesn’t really hurt yet, and he has heard that it does hurt. Suddenly Raúl twists his fingers inside him and strange warmth spreads in Fernando’s lower stomach.  
  
“Wh... ah!” he gasps, drawing a short laugh from Raúl. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Making you feel good,” Raúl says, curling his fingers one more time before removing them. “Turn around.”  
  
Fernando obeys, feeling strangely empty without Raúl’s fingers inside him. Raúl lifts his back, pushing a pillow under it, and lifts his legs slightly.  
  
“Ready?”  
  
Fernando nods despite not feeling ready at all. He watches Raúl slicking up his erection and is convinced that he will die when it enters him.  
  
He cries out when blinding pain shoots up his spine, and for once he doesn’t care that probably everyone in the house has to hear him. Raúl stills when he’s fully inside him, caressing Fernando’s face and wiping away the tears that slip from underneath his eyelids.  
  
“Shh...” he whispers. “From now on it only gets better, I promise.”  
  
He moves slowly and Fernando holds onto him, trying to breathe regularly. There’s still a lot of pain, but it’s becoming bearable. Then Raúl grips Fernando’s member and moves his hand up and down. Fernando’s breath hitches.  
  
“Raúl...” he breathes out.  
  
Raúl kisses him gently and continues to move. Soon Fernando doesn’t know what to pay attention to, because Raúl’s hand on him feels so good, and there’s the strange warmth in the pit of his stomach every time Raúl moves against him.  
  
“Raúl... I... I can’t, I’m going to...” he gasps before he comes in Raúl’s hand, eyes wide, surprised at the reaction of his own body.  
  
He feels his cheeks burn again.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.  
  
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Raúl says, his voice now breathy as well.  
  
He continues moving inside him, kissing his neck before he finally shudders and Fernando feels something hot filling him. Raúl slips out of him and the warm liquid trickles down Fernando’s thighs.  
  
“See?” Raúl smiles, pulling Fernando into an embrace. “You survived it. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”  
  
Fernando shakes his head, nuzzling his neck.  
  
“It was nice,” he says. “But... I wasn’t really... good. I mean, you did everything, I just...”  
  
 _Kind of laid here._  
  
“Don’t worry about it, darling,” Raúl says, kissing his forehead. “You were amazing. It all comes with time. And we have plenty of time.”  
  
“Yes,” Fernando mumbles and closes his eyes. “Plenty of time.”


	2. Two

Fernando wakes up and finds the room already empty. The vial of oil is gone and when he imagines one of the servants entering the room and seeing him naked and the messy bed and all, Fernando hides his face in the pillow.  
  
There is a knock on the door and Fernando quickly wraps the blanket around him.  
  
“Yes?” he calls.  
  
The door opens and Iker enters the room, acting like Fernando is fully dressed and just reading a book or something similarly normal.  
  
“Good morning, sir,” Iker says. “I came to tell you that breakfast will be ready soon. If you want to take a bath now, it’s ready as well.”  
  
Fernando blushes again. Without a doubt Iker knows why he needs a bath now.  
  
“Y-yes, thank you,” he blurts out. “And... Raúl?”  
  
“Mr. González always goes to take a ride on his horse early in the morning,” Iker says. “He will join you at the breakfast.”  
  
Fernando nods. Iker closes the door behind him and Fernando gets up carefully. His body is sore and all sticky. He enters the bathroom to find the bath full of hot water; clean towels, soap and brush are ready as well. With a relieved sigh he enters the tub, letting the hot water ease the pain in his muscles. He washes the rests of oil and sweat off his body and wraps himself up in a towel.  
  
Coming back to the room, he finds his clothes clean and perfectly ironed on a hanger on the door of the big wardrobe. He dresses up and goes to the dining room. When he enters, Raúl is already sitting there, dressed in his riding pants and white shirt, looking the most beautiful Fernando has ever seen him.  
  
“Good morning, love!” he greets him. “Slept well?”  
  
Fernando smiles and sits down at the table. He removes the silver cover from his plate and takes in the delicious smell of freshly roasted bacon and eggs. His life has officially turned into a fairy-tale.  
  


* * *

  
It takes Fernando two days to explore the house, so big it is. There is a big library full of old books, a salon where Raúl likes to enjoy his afternoon tea and snack, many guest rooms that are mostly empty, also Raúl’s office where he works and a play room with a big pool table. Fernando gets lost at least three times a day on the corridors and stairs that he is convinced he knows where they lead, only to find out they lead somewhere completely else.  
  
Once he finds himself in front of a wooden door at the end of the hallway that leads to his and Raúl’s bedroom, behind the corner. He pushes the handle down. To his surprise, the door is locked. It’s the first time he finds a locked door in the house. He tries to open it once again, but the door doesn’t move.  
  
Fernando thinks for a while, then goes down to the kitchen.  
  
Juan smiles at him when he enters and Fernando smiles back. He likes Juan the best out of all the servants. Álvaro is checking the dishes that are laid out on the table.  
  
“Álvaro?” Fernando asks.  
  
“Sir?” Álvaro bows slightly.  
  
“I found the door on the first floor, the locked one...” Fernando says. “Do you have the key to it? Or... what is in there?”  
  
“There are just... things,” Álvaro smiles. “Old furniture nobody uses anymore. It has been closed for years. The key is probably lost now.”  
  
“But... that room looks really huge,” Fernando says. “Isn’t it a waste to keep it closed?”  
  
“There are plenty other rooms, sir,” Álvaro shrugs. “Nobody needs it.”  
  
Fernando nods and looks around.  
  
“Do you know when Raúl is coming back?” he asks.  
  
He feels kind of stupid having to ask the butler when his husband is coming home, but Álvaro always knows while Fernando has no idea where Raúl is.  
  
“He went to the city in the morning,” Álvaro says. “He will come back for dinner.”  
  
Fernando nods again and goes up. He looks once more in the direction of the locked room. Then he shakes his head and goes to his bedroom.  
  


* * *

  
After the dinner they sit in the salon. The fireplace is lit and it is warm in there.  
  
“I hear you are curious about the locked room,” Raúl smiles.  
  
“Oh...” Fernando says and lays the glass on the table quickly. “I just thought...”  
  
“You think I’m hiding a legendary treasure there?” Raúl chuckles and takes Fernando’s hand. “Well, darling, the treasure is right here and I have no intentions to hide it.”  
  
Fernando blushes.  
  
“I just thought the room was too big to be unused,” he says apologetically. “Or you have so much old furniture?”  
  
“I don’t even know what is in there exactly,” Raúl waves his hand. “Old stuff my crazy ancestors collected. I bet there are some stuffed deer and portraits of ugly women.”  
  
Fernando laughs.  
  
“I’m not going to ask about the room again, I promise,” he says then.  
  
Raúl kisses him and pulls him closer.  
  
“How about we go to take the morning ride together tomorrow?” he asks. “I will show you the nature around here, it’s beautiful.”  
  
Fernando smiles and nods. Then he lifts his eyes and bites his lip.  
  
“Are we going to bed now?” he asks.  
  
“You want to?” Raúl raises his brows.  
  
“Yes,” Fernando whispers. “I want to.”  
  


* * *

  
Fernando wakes up in the middle of the night. Raúl is sleeping next to him and everything is quiet. Fernando can’t remember what it was that woke him up, but then he realizes he is thirsty.  
  
He creeps out of the room and heads towards the stairs. Then suddenly he stops. There are noises coming from the direction of the locked room. Fernando holds his breath and then he tiptoes towards the door. He can hear some creaking of the floor, regular and steady, like someone is walking in circles. Then it suddenly stops. He waits for a while, but there’s no sound. Shaking his head, he goes down the stairs to the kitchen.  
  
When he comes up with a glass of water, there’s silence in the room. Fernando goes back to his bedroom, but he can’t sleep until the morning. It’s becoming more and more confusing.  
  
He decides to talk to someone about his suspicion, and knowing Álvaro’s attitude, he chooses Jesús this time. He stops him when he’s carrying a basket of apples inside.  
  
“You know, it’s strange, but...” Fernando starts.  
  
Jesús looks at him.  
  
“Yesterday night, I was going to get a glass of water and I heard some noises from the locked room,” Fernando says. “Like footsteps, like someone was walking around the room.”  
  
“It’s impossible,” Jesús shakes his head.  
  
“At first I thought it was a thief, but...”  
  
“The door is locked, a thief wouldn’t get inside the house, leave alone that room. Besides, there’s nothing to take there.”  
  
“But I’m sure I heard something.”  
  
“It’s an old house,” Iker says from the table. “The floor sometimes creaks on its own. No need to worry, sir.”  
  
Fernando gives up, but a strange thing comes to his mind. He has to find the key to the room, whatever it takes.


	3. Three

Fernando wakes up in the middle of the night again, but this time he doesn’t find Raúl next to him. He waits for a few minutes, then gets up and goes to the door.  
  
He looks out of the door and then freezes. He can see a shadow moving on the wall, coming from behind the corner. He knows what is behind the corner and the memory of the steps behind the locked door returns.  
  
If he thought this house was creepy before, now it scares the hell out of him. He starts thinking about what he could grab as a weapon, then considers jumping in the bed and hiding under the blanket. Then he scolds himself for behaving like a scared kid and starts getting mentally ready to go out of the room and find out who is in the corridor.  
  
Then the person comes out from the darkness and Fernando almost screams.  
  
It’s Raúl.  
  


* * *

  
In the morning, Raúl acts like nothing happened and Fernando decides not to bring it up either. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Raúl just went to the kitchen. Fernando is not sure if he was behind the corner or if he just walked up the stairs after all. And he doesn’t feel like starting an argument for nothing. Maybe he is just being paranoid.  
  
But he is still determined to find out what is in the room. Without telling anyone this time.  
  


* * *

  
He starts by searching through the wooden panel with keys that hangs in the kitchen. There are keys to all the doors in the house, to the cellar and the attic, but any of them seems to fit inside the lock of the room.  
  
He even goes as far as going to the garden shed to look for the key there, even though there is no reason for it to be there. The shed is full of tools and some wooden boxes. It smells of soil and wood.  
  
Suddenly he hears an unfamiliar laughter. He hides behind the boxes quickly. In the next moment, Jesús and Silva stumble inside. Silva is laughing happily, his breath rapid like he has been running. Jesús wraps his arms around Silva’s waist and pulls him closer.  
  
“No, no, no!” Silva cries out, but doesn’t really push him away. “Jesús! Not here!”  
  
“Why not?” Jesús smiles. “Who cares? Nobody can see us.”  
  
“What if someone walks in?”  
  
“Well, it’s not like we are a big secret,” Jesús grins. “But just keep saying no, it turns me on.”  
  
Silva slaps him on the shoulder and then kisses him. Fernando holds his breath. The way they kiss is completely different to the soft and tender kisses he knows from Raúl. This kiss is all teeth and tongue, messy and hungry. Then Silva’s hands move to the buttons of Jesús’ pants and Fernando realizes that the quiet innocent Silva is by no means as quiet and innocent as he had thought him to be.  
  
“You change your mind quickly,” Jesús teases, pushing Silva against the wall.  
  
They are now barely a meter from Fernando who doesn’t even dare to move. He feels uncomfortable watching them, but at the same time it strangely fascinates him. It is too late to go away now anyway.  
  
Jesús undoes Silva’s pants as well and Silva moans into the kiss in a way that sends shivers down Fernando’s spine. He watches them with awe, hands moving and lips touching, something he has never seen before and these boys, probably younger than him, do it like it’s the most natural thing ever.  
  
Finally Silva cries out and Jesús quickly covers his mouth with his hand, laughing quietly.  
  
“You’re loud in the most inappropriate moments,” he says.  
  
“When you do inappropriate things to me...” Silva shrugs.  
  
They kiss for one last time before adjusting their clothes casually and coming out of the shed like nothing happened. Fernando finally lets out his breath and then notices that the front of his pants is actually damp.  
  


* * *

  
Fernando is waiting for Raúl in the bedroom. It is already past dinner time, but Raúl sometimes goes to the city to overlook his business and doesn’t return until late.  
  
When he walks in, Fernando throws himself on him and kisses him. It’s still nowhere near what he saw between Jesús and Silva, but it’s also different from his usual shyness. At least he hopes so.  
  
“Oh, hold on, hold on!” Raúl chuckles. “What came over you?”  
  
“I missed you,” Fernando smiles.  
  
“I almost want you to miss me more often, then.”  
  
Fernando whimpers when Raúl pushes him on the bed and lays on him, being close and yet not enough. He bites his lip.  
  
“There... there are other ways to... to do that, aren’t there?” he asks then.  
  
He almost dies out of shame when Raúl gives him a surprised look.  
  
“Now I wonder what books you could have found in my library to give you these ideas,” Raúl laughs. “Or maybe you are not as innocent as you seem?”  
  
 _Not me,_ Fernando thinks. _But you could ask your servants._  
  
Raúl sits back on his heels and looks at Fernando.  
  
“Well, there are, of course there are,” he says. “But some of them are not for well-educated boys like you.”  
  
“How come you know them, then?” Fernando pouts. “Aren’t you well educated as well?”  
  
Raúl gives him a reprimanding look.  
  
“You know, I meet people because of business, and sometimes in the gentlemen’s clubs we talk about different things than horses and weather.”  
  
“But you just talk,” Fernando assures himself. “You don’t actually do them.”  
  
“With you?” Raúl smiles. “Have you noticed me doing such things?”  
  
“No,” Fernando says and kisses him. “And I’m happy without them. As long as it’s you.”  
  
“Well, then... let’s hope I won’t bore you tonight,” Raúl winks.  
  


* * *

  
Two days later, Fernando finds the key.  
  
It almost falls on his head when he’s pulling out a book from the shelf in Raúl’s office. He grabs it and looks at it, dumbfounded. He has no idea why someone would put a key under the books, unless they would want to hide it. But why should anyone hide a key to an unused room?  
  
He waits until the early morning when Raúl is gone to ride his horse and the servants are busy with their morning chores. He creeps towards the room and slides the key in the lock. It fits perfectly and turns smoothly, like it was yesterday someone last unlocked the door.  
  
He pushes down the handle and opens the door. Then he almost screams, but the sound gets stuck in his throat and he just stands there, frozen on the spot.  
  
A young boy is sitting on the bed, looking at Fernando with big, dark, frightened eyes.


	4. Four

Fernando puts the key back on its place and backs up from the shelf like it is possessed by the Devil. He can’t stop shaking. He doesn’t know what to do. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything in that room, he just looked at the boy for what seemed like eternity, then closed the door briskly and locked it like he could lock the memory of it inside as well.  
  
Asking Raúl is unimaginable. Fernando would like to believe that there is a reasonable explanation for all this, but then Raúl would have already told him. And he can never ask him why he is keeping someone locked in a room.  
  
He doesn’t even notice what he is eating at breakfast. He can only think of that room, that boy, those eyes.  
  
Finishing the breakfast, an idea comes to his mind. He has to know what is going on in here. And he already knows how.  
  
He goes to the garden shed, digging in the boxes for some time until he finds what he needs. Then he goes up and enters the room next to the locked one. It is one of the guest rooms and it looks quite unused. Fernando closes the door carefully and then inspects one of the walls closely. It doesn’t look too solid.  
  
Fernando pulls the tool out of his pocket and starts drilling a small hole in the wall.  
  


* * *

  
When Raúl returns in the evening, Fernando tells him he’s not feeling well. He suggests sleeping in one of the guest rooms because he doesn’t want Raúl to catch it, if it’s flu or something. Raúl doesn’t object and Fernando goes to sleep in the guest room next to their bedroom.  
  
He slips out of the room as soon as the house goes quiet and creeps to the room in which he prepared everything for his plan. He can’t be sure that Raúl will come, but he did offer him an opportunity.  
  
He waits for about half an hour when he hears footsteps on the corridor and then the sound of the key turning in the lock. Then a ray of light shines through the little hole in the wall and Fernando puts his eye to it.  
  


* * *

  
The boy jumps off the bed and kneels next to it when Raúl walks in.  
  
“Were you looking forward to seeing me, Sergio?” Raúl asks, laying the lamp on the nightstand.  
  
“Yes, Master,” Sergio whispers.  
  
“How much?”  
  
“I couldn’t wait to see you, Master.”  
  
“Show me how much, then.”  
  
Sergio moves forward on his knees. Raúl touches his face, not gently, rather possessively. Sergio unbuttons Raúl’s pants and pulls them down together with Raúl’s underwear.  
  
Then he moves closer and takes the tip of Raúl’s cock in his mouth.  
  
Fernando has to brace himself on the wall. He has heard about this, but only whispered mentions, as it was with everything that was morally unacceptable. He could never imagine seeing this with his own eyes.  
  
Raúl digs his hand in Sergio’s hair, running his fingers through it as Sergio slowly pulls back. Then he grips his hair with both hands and thrusts forward. Sergio gags but doesn’t try to move away, letting Raúl thrust in his mouth again and again.  
  
Raúl throws his head back and stills. Fernando knows well enough the expression he has when he comes and he has to put his mouth to his lips when he realizes that Sergio swallowed all that came out of Raúl’s cock.  
  


* * *

  
Raúl takes a moment to collect himself, running his hands through Sergio’s hair.  
  
“You are such a good boy when you want to, Sergio,” he says then.  
  
“Thank you, Master.”  
  
“I would almost say you deserve a reward,” Raúl says. “But you were also naughty last time. You remember it, don’t you?”  
  
Sergio lowers his eyes. Raúl tugs at his hair.  
  
“Answer!”  
  
“Yes, Master, I remember it.”  
  
“Good. So how should I solve this? You deserve a reward, but you also deserve a punishment...”  
  
He walks over to a big wardrobe in the corner of the room, pulls a small key out of his pocket and unlocks it. Then he stalks back towards Sergio with a smile on his lips.  
  
“I am going to punish you,” he says.  
  
“As you wish, Master,” Sergio whispers.  
  
“But as your reward you can choose what I am going to punish you with.”  
  
“Thank you, Master.”  
  
Raúl leans over the bed calmly, watching Sergio get up and walk over to the wardrobe. He taps his foot on the floor impatiently when Sergio takes more time than Raúl judges necessary. Finally Sergio turns to him, handing him a leather belt in a slightly shaking hand.  
  
Raúl lets out an amused laugh.  
  
“I knew you would choose this,” he says, letting the belt run between his fingers. “Well, can you take it like a good boy or you want me to tie you up?”  
  
Sergio just looks at him. Raúl clacks his tongue.  
  
“You still have problems with asking for it,” he says. “We will work on it later. Get ready, then.”  
  
Sergio climbs onto the bed and takes off his shirt. Fernando almost gasps when he sees his back full of scars and bruises. Sergio kneels on the bed with his back turned to Raúl and lets Raúl tie his wrists to the headboard.  
  
“Remember to stay quiet,” Raúl says.  
  
Fernando squeezes his eyes shut when Raúl swings the belt, still not able to block out the sound it makes when it connects with Sergio’s back. No sound escapes from Sergio’s lips, only as the belt keeps hitting his body, he starts biting on his lower lip.  
  
Finally Raúl puts the belt away and runs his hands over Sergio’s back, pushing him down. Sergio hisses at the contact of Raúl’s hands with the fresh bruises but lies down obediently. Raúl joins him, like they are just casually resting there.  
  
“I can’t come every night anymore, Sergio,” he sighs, caressing Sergio’s back. “I’m married now, you know?”  
  
Fernando’s heart starts to beat faster. What if Sergio tells Raúl that he saw him, that Fernando was in the room? But Sergio doesn’t even move. Fernando has the impression that he doesn’t even breathe. It’s a big contrast to how relaxed Raúl looks.  
  
“To Fernando,” Raúl continues with a nostalgic smile. “He’s such a sweet boy. He was still a virgin when we got married, would you believe it? Just the second virginity I took, after yours. It’s been such a long time. It’s rare to find a boy like that nowadays. Modern times, they say, just excuses for whoring themselves...”  
  
Fernando feels almost sick.  
  
“Just think how lucky you are,” Raúl says. “Who knows what you would become out there. The world is a dangerous place. Here you’re safe and mine.”  
  
He tilts Sergio’s head up and forces him to look him in the eyes.  
  
“What do you say, Sergio?” he asks.  
  
“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”  
  
Raúl smiles and pats him on the abused back.  
  
“I could never do to him what I do to you,” he whispers. “He’s too sweet, too innocent for that. Nothing like you, right? You are different.”  
  
Sergio tenses when Raúl shifts closer to him, but doesn’t try to get away.  
  
“I am going to fuck you now, Sergio,” Raúl says in a low, deep voice. “I am going to fuck you so hard you will feel it until I can come here again.”  
  
Sergio cries out when Raúl flips him over, which twists his tied wrists in an awkward angle and his back connects with the mattress. Raúl puts a hand over his mouth.  
  
“What is that?” he snaps. “Do you want to wake the whole house up?”  
  
Sergio shakes his head quickly.  
  
“I think so,” Raúl nods and stretches towards the nightstand, pulling some pieces of fabric from the drawer.  
  
For the first time Sergio shows some reluctance, but Raúl still manages to place a ball of fabric in his mouth and secure it with another piece.  
  
“It’s for your own good,” he says calmly. “You wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and I’d have to punish you for it.”  
  
He pulls Sergio’s pants down, patting him on the head when he lifts his hips obediently.  
  
There is no preparation like with Fernando, no distracting touches either. It’s raw and animalistic and Fernando doesn’t even recognize Raúl in the man who is moving on the bed. It’s not his gentle, loving, considerate Raúl. This is someone bad, almost a demon, hurting the boy who looks so fragile compared to him but who Fernando thinks has to be much stronger than he looks. Fernando is sure that he would be already dead by this point, and he knows that it is not the first time Sergio is going through this.  
  
When Raúl comes, Sergio is hanging by his wrists like a rag doll, hair sticking to his forehead and eyes closed. When Raúl slaps him in the face he unglues his eyelids and tries to focus them on Raúl, but they close again on their own.  
  
“Well, I think there will be no more fun with you tonight,” Raúl says. “We will keep the rest for next time.”  
  


* * *

  
Fernando quickly leaves his place, runs to the guest room and jumps in the bed. A few minutes later, he can hear the door open and Raúl’s footsteps. He pretends to be asleep as well as he can. Raúl just keeps looking at him for a while. Then he walks out of the room and closes the door.  
  
Fernando opens his eyes and takes a deep breath, finally allowing everything he has seen sink in. He realizes that he is shaking wildly, for a moment he feels like he is about to throw up, then he feels chills taking over his body like he is indeed sick.  
  
He curls up under the blanket and cries himself to sleep.


	5. Five

When he walks in, Sergio is asleep. He doesn’t even wake up when Fernando walks in. Only when Fernando lightly touches his shoulder, he startles and looks at him with frightened eyes.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” Fernando whispers.  
  
Sergio just keeps looking at him, like he’s asking what Fernando wants. Fernando doesn’t know himself what he wants. He wants explanations, but he’s not sure if Sergio can give them to him.  
  
“I... I know what he does to you,” Fernando says then, biting his lip.  
  
Sergio swallows hard and takes a breath.  
  
“You should go,” he croaks.  
  
“You don’t need to worry, Raúl is gone,” Fernando says.  
  
“Someone else could... Álvaro...”  
  
“Wait...” Fernando whispers. “Álvaro knows that you are here?”  
  
“Everyone does,” Sergio says.  
  
Fernando feels his stomach make a flip. He cannot imagine everyone knowing about this and not doing anything. Everyone, not just Álvaro, but also Jesús, Iker, Pedro, even Juan, the cook, even the quiet Silva...  
  
“You don’t know Álvaro,” Sergio whispers. “You don’t know what he’s like. Sometimes it’s even worse than when the Master comes.”  
  
“Álvaro can... touch you?”  
  
Sergio nods and looks to the door nervously.  
  
“Please go,” he whispers. “Anyone could come, Álvaro, Silva...”  
  
“You fear even Silva?”  
  
“Maybe he won’t hurt me, but he will tell, please, go!”  
  
He tries to move and winces in pain. Fernando looks at him and bites his lip.  
  
“Can I do anything for you?” he asks.  
  
Sergio looks at the nightstand. Fernando follows his gaze to find a jar of water and a glass there. He pours water in the glass and hands it to Sergio. For a moment he thinks that Sergio won’t even have the strength to lift it to his lips, but he somehow manages. Fernando waits to take the glass from him when it’s empty.  
  
“I... I just need to know...” he says then.  
  
Sergio shakes his head and curls up on the pillow.  
  
“I just want to sleep, please,” he whispers.  
  
Fernando nods and walks out of the room. He is still determined to come back for answers. But for that he has to figure out when it will be safe.  
  


* * *

  
Back in the bedroom he looks out of the window in the garden. Silva is plucking out the weeds off a flower bed while Jesús is making a flower crown out of some flowers. Then he puts it on Silva’s head and Silva laughs.  
  
He is beautiful, innocent and pure in this laughter, with the flowers in his hair, and Fernando doesn’t understand how it is possible that he knows and lives with such awful things going on just a few steps away from him. Everyone seems to just pretend nothing is happening.  
  
It that moment he remembers that when Raúl comes home, he will have to look at him, eat with him, God, he will have to sleep with him. And the irony strikes him with incredible force when he realizes that he will be exactly like all the servants. He will pretend nothing is happening.  
  
He manages to eat a bit of the lunch Silva brings him to the guest room. When he leans closer to collect the dishes, Fernando can smell the sun, the fresh smell of soil, flowers and faint whiff of soap as well. Then he remembers that except the time when food is served, he always sees Silva outside the house – in the garden, in the stables helping Pedro, washing clothes in the backyard... It sort of explains everything. Now that he connects the dots, he realizes that Silva escapes from the house whenever he can.  
  


* * *

  
When Silva is gone, Fernando creeps into the guest room again. He almost feels like he is doing something bad now, because after all Sergio doesn‘t know that he is watching him. But compared to what Raúl does to him, being watched is probably nothing.  
  
The door suddenly opens and Sergio tenses when Álvaro walks in, but he only lays a plate on the table and looks at Sergio. Sergio lifts his head.  
  
“Álvaro, please,” he whispers. “Could you put it closer? Please.”  
  
“And shouldn’t I also feed you?” Álvaro snorts, walks out of the room and locks the door.  
  
Sergio doesn’t move for a moment. Then he slowly gets up and grabs the headboard for support. He’s biting on his lower lip with every step, it takes him eternity to walk over to the table that is about six steps away from the bed, but by pure power of will he reaches it. He slides to the ground and takes the plate from the table, setting it on the ground next to him.  
  
About an hour later, Iker walks in the room and finds him like that, leaning over the wall, the empty plate next to him.  
  
“What the hell are you doing here?” Iker asks.  
  
Sergio’s eyes snap open and he looks up at Iker pleadingly.  
  
“Álvaro left the food here,” he explains. “And I couldn’t get up again.”  
  
Iker rolls his eyes and pulls him up. Sergio clings to him when he helps him get back on the bed. Then he looks at him gratefully.  
  
“Thank you, Iker,” he whispers.  
  
“You’ll thank me later,” Iker says curtly.  
  
Sergio’s voice suddenly changes and sounds now exactly like when he talks to Raúl.  
  
“Yes, Iker,” he says quietly. “It will be my pleasure, Iker.”  
  
Iker just turns away, picks up the plate from the floor and walks out of the room, locking the door behind him carefully.  
  


* * *

  
Raúl comes back in the evening and smiles when he finds Fernando reading in the armchair in the salon.  
  
“I see you’re feeling better,” he says.  
  
Fernando lifts his head and manages to smile.  
  
“A bit.”  
  
Raúl comes closer to him and leans closer to kiss him. For a moment Fernando thinks he won’t be able to touch Raúl, that he will push him away and shout at him, all the things he has seen. But then Raúl’s lips are on his, gentle as always and suddenly Fernando is almost ready to believe that there has to be a reason for it all, that maybe it’s not as it seems, because Raúl wouldn’t be able to do such bad things without a reason. He realizes that it doesn’t make any sense, but it’s what he wants to believe.  
  
“Raúl, I...” he breathes, absolutely ready to spill out his secret, to ask for answers, whatever they are.  
  
“Darling,” Raúl stops him. “I need to talk to Iker about something. You will tell me at the dinner.”  
  
Fernando nods, although he knows that he will not. The moment of vulnerability has already passed and he will only smile forcedly at the dinner, try to listen to what Raúl says and then hope Raúl will not be in the mood to touch him too much. He cringes involuntarily at the though. He realizes that right now he’s probably thinking in the same way Sergio thinks. He’s only following his instinct of self-preservation.


	6. Six

Sergio looks a bit better when Fernando walks in his room the next day. He chose the time after lunch because he now knows none of the servants will come before dinner.  
  
Sergio just watches him this time, doesn‘t try to send him away and doesn‘t move even when Fernando sits on the bed. Fernando looks at him, for the first time seeing him up close in the daylight. Were it not for the dark circles under his eyes and chapped lips, with the lower lip swollen from how he bites it constantly, Fernando would say Sergio‘s face is the most beautiful one he has ever seen.  
  
After a while Fernando realizes Sergio won‘t say anything unless he asks him a question. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath.  
  
“How long have you been here, Sergio?” he asks quietly.  
  
Sergio looks at him with surprise.  
  
“I... don’t know,” he says then, eyes flickering from Fernando’s face to the window like he is trying to remember something. “What year are we in?”  
  
Fernando forgets to close his mouth.  
  
“What... year?” he repeats.  
  
Then he realizes that there is no calendar in the room, nothing Sergio could tell time with, and Raúl probably doesn’t walk in announcing the date every time.  
  
“It’s 1889,” he says.  
  
Sergio closes his eyes.  
  
“Five years,” he whispers.  
  
Fernando swallows hard.  
  
“You’ve been in this room for five years?” he asks. “But... how can a boy like you just disappear? Someone has to miss you, someone has to be looking for you, your family...”  
  
“They think I am dead,” Sergio whispers. “They... they are from a village nearby, they are poor. Master promised he would give me education. Then he told them that I died of cholera. They believed him. They even thanked Master to pay for my funeral. I have a grave somewhere, Master says.”  
  
Fernando looks at him with wide eyes. Sergio looks lost in thoughts, then shakes his head and looks at Fernando with strange surprise, like he’s not used to talking so much anymore.  
  
“See, he could kill me and nobody would care,” he says then and lets out a quiet, almost delirious laughter. “Because I’m actually already dead. Sometimes I wish I really was.”  
  
Fernando gulps. Then he notices Sergio is looking at him with certain curiosity.  
  
“What?” he asks.  
  
“You are so beautiful,” Sergio whispers and then backs up quickly. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Sorry for complimenting?” Fernando asks, feeling his cheeks flush.  
  
“I... so beautiful, and so nice. Why are you here, losing your time with me?”  
  
“I am not losing time.”  
  
“He... Master doesn’t know you are here, right?” Sergio asks, looking to the door nervously like Raúl was about to walk in every second.  
  
“No. He thinks I don’t know about you. And you mustn’t tell him that I do, understand?”  
  
“No, I won’t, I promise.”  
  
Fernando nods and gets up. Then he looks at Sergio.  
  
“I... can I come again?”  
  
“You don’t need to ask me,” Sergio says in a surprised voice.  
  
“I do. I won’t come again if you don’t want me to.”  
  
Sergio hesitates, then looks Fernando in the eyes and for the first time he smiles.  
  
“Yes, come again, please,” he whispers.  
  


* * *

  
Raúl comes home earlier than usual, and looks surprised when he finds Fernando in the kitchen.  
  
“Are you learning to cook?” he asks, watching Fernando cutting some apples.  
  
“I was bored,” Fernando shrugs, not lifting his eyes from the table. “How was your day?”  
  
“Terrible, as usual,” Raúl sighs. “I had to meet some creditors, who of course presented me with a thousand of stupid reasons why they couldn’t pay the debts they have towards my bank.”  
  
“What are you going to do?” Fernando asks, pretending that he is interested in the matter, because he finds it easier now to talk about impersonal things.  
  
“I will see our solicitors to figure out what we can do, and then we will get the money out of them somehow. Don’t worry. What is mine is mine and nobody can take it from me.”  
  
Fernando finishes cutting the apples and hands them to Juan, trying hard not to think about the double sense behind Raúl’s words, which he maybe only imagines is there.  
  
“Well, I am going to change,” he says. “Continue with this... what is it going to be, anyway?”  
  
“Apple pie,” Juan says. “It should be, at least. But since I have an apprentice now, who knows what it will become.”  
  


* * *

  
Fernando wishes the dinner would go on forever and they would never have to go to bed, but of course it’s impossible. He feels his stomach flip when Raúl gets in the bed, but Raúl just folds his hands behind his head and looks at the ceiling.  
  
“I’m so tired,” he sighs.  
  
“You should get some rest, then,” Fernando says carefully.  
  
“Don’t you mind it?” Raúl asks with a smile. “You married an old man, it seems.”  
  
“Of course I don’t mind it,” Fernando smiles.  
  
 _I welcome it,_  he thinks.  
  
Raúl falls asleep quickly, while Fernando just lays there, staring into the darkness. Then he gets up and walks out of the room, heading to the stairs to get some water. Suddenly he hears some footsteps from the stairs. He considers creeping back to the bedroom, but the strange curiosity and desire to know the truth about what is going on in this house is stronger.  
  
He only manages to hide in the guest room when the steps approach. He can hear two different steps and would bet his soul that one belong to Álvaro. When the light illuminates the room, he can indeed see Álvaro carrying the lamp, and Iker behind him, who locks the door carefully.  
  
Sergio lifts his head and his eyes go wide when he sees them approaching the bed.  
  
“Know what day it is?” Álvaro smirks, flipping him over to his back. “Friday.”  
  
Sergio looks completely mortified and only when Álvaro climbs on the bed, he tries to grab his hands and stop him.  
  
“No, please, please, Álvaro...” he whispers desperately when Álvaro yanks his pants off his hips.  
  
Álvaro slaps him in the face blindly.  
  
“Shut up or it will be worse.”  
  
Sergio turns to Iker and looks at him pleadingly.  
  
“Iker, please, tomorrow, tomorrow I will do everything you say...”  
  
“You will do everything we say whenever we want to,” Iker corrects him in a calm voice.  
  
He climbs on the bed as well, pulls Sergio in his lap and grabs his wrists, holding them behind Sergio’s back. Then he pets him on the head.  
  
“Come on, Sergio, you don’t want us to tell Mr. González you were naughty again, do you?”  
  
Sergio gives him a frightened look and shakes his head.  
  
“Be nice, then, maybe you’ll get a reward.”  
  
Álvaro only snorts and rolls his eyes, like he judges it highly unnecessary to treat Sergio that way. He pulls his own pants down and Fernando almost gasps audibly upon seeing him, because if he thought Raúl was well endowed, he is nothing compared to Álvaro.  
  
“Hold him,” Álvaro snaps at Iker and Iker wraps one arm around Sergio’s chest and clamps his other hand over Sergio’s mouth.  
  
Sergio arches his back and screams in Iker’s hand when Álvaro enters him. Iker shoots a warning look at Álvaro and Álvaro halts, letting Sergio adjust.  
  
“You make such fuss about it,” he chuckles while rolling his eyes at Iker.  
  
“I just want to keep him in one piece, that’s all,” Iker snaps.  
  
Sergio’s eyes are closed, he’s whimpering quietly and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. It takes a while before Iker nods and Álvaro moves again. Sergio keeps digging his fingers in Iker’s forearm but doesn’t fight back. Fernando feels his own fingernails cutting in his palm. To his surprise he feels like running in that room and punching Álvaro and Iker in the face, which is something he’s never wanted to do before. He’s always disliked violence, he’s never hit anyone, even as a kid, he always preferred to solve things peacefully. But now there is some unexplainable rage in him and only the fact that Iker locked the door before and the fear that he would make everything worse is stopping him.  
  
Álvaro pulls out and then comes all over Sergio’s chest. Iker laughs like it’s some inner joke between them. Sergio looks like he couldn’t care less.  
  
Iker then slides Sergio off his lap and Álvaro gets up. He smirks at Iker.  
  
“Hope you don’t expect me to do the nanny as well.”  
  
Iker is about to answer him when Sergio turns around and grabs his hand.  
  
“Please, Iker,” he breathes. “Please, don’t... I’ll...”  
  
“Yes?” Iker raises his brows. “What will you do?”  
  
“Iker!” Álvaro growls impatiently.  
  
“What?” Iker laughs, petting Sergio’s hair mockingly. “I like bargaining with him.”  
  
He tilts Sergio’s head up, leveling their faces.  
  
“So, what will you do if I don’t fuck you?”  
  
“I’ll...” Sergio licks his lips. “I’ll jerk you off.”  
  
Iker frowns.  
  
“I don’t feel like it.”  
  
Sergio’s eyes flutter in panic.  
  
“I... I’ll make it good, I promise.”  
  
“We had that last week. Come up with something better or I’m fucking you, little slut.”  
  
Sergio swallows hard and lowers his eyes.  
  
“I’ll suck you off,” he whispers.  
  
“What? I couldn’t hear you,” Iker says and forces him to look up. “Say it again.”  
  
“I’ll suck you off,” Sergio repeats.  
  
“Will you?” Iker smirks. “I thought you had it reserved for Mr. González. I thought you hated it, eh?”  
  
“I... I do, but I can’t take any more...”  
  
“Cock,” Álvaro concludes dryly and Iker bites down a laugh.  
  
“Well, then, do it,” he says.  
  
With something close to a sigh of relief Sergio undoes Iker’s pants and takes his cock out. He licks his dry lips before taking the tip in his mouth. Iker throws his head back and gasps. Sergio twirls his tongue around a few times before slowly sinking down. Álvaro lays a hand on the back of Sergio’s head and pushes him lower.  
  
“Take it all,” he snaps.  
  
When he lets him back up, Sergio coughs before taking Iker’s cock back in his mouth but this time goes down himself, with Álvaro’s hand resting in the air as a silent threat. Iker then pulls him up and pushes two fingers in his mouth.  
  
“I promised you a reward,” he growls.  
  
Pulling his fingers out he motions for Sergio to go back to what he was doing before. When Sergio goes down again, Iker pushes the fingers inside him, smirking when Sergio moans quietly around his cock. He works the fingers in and out and flicks his wrist suddenly. Sergio writhes under the touch and Álvaro chuckles.  
  
“Look at him,” he says. “He likes it.”  
  
“Sluts do,” Iker nods and twists his fingers again.  
  
Álvaro reaches for Sergio’s cock and grips it firmly, moving his hand up and down lazily. Sergio is clutching at the sheets, hips bucking involuntarily every time Iker crooks his fingers up. Álvaro squeezes the base of his cock.  
  
“You’re not coming before you make Iker come,” he says.  
  
Sergio moves his hand slowly, like it costs him the last bits of power, and cups Iker’s balls while licking on his shaft a few more times. Iker leans back on his elbows and with a soft gasp comes in Sergio’s mouth that Álvaro forces him to open, holding his jaw firmly. He lets go then, loosening the grip on Sergio’s cock a bit as well.  
  
“Beg,” he says quietly.  
  


* * *

  
Sergio lays motionless when Iker and Álvaro get up. They act like he isn’t there, like he is just a thing they used and don’t need anymore.  
  
Iker turns around when they are at the door.  
  
“Next Friday,” he says, half a promise, half a threat.  
  
Sergio doesn’t react, only tilts his head to hide his face in the pillow. Iker and Álvaro walk out and close the door.  
  
Fernando wants to leave his place and go back to the bedroom, or better run out of the house into the night and never return, but then he hears someone else’s steps and realizes that Álvaro and Iker left the lamp in the room and didn’t lock the door.  
  
It’s Jesús who walks in this time. He stops at Sergio’s bed for a moment before rolling him on his back, pushing a pillow under his back and helping him to lean back over the headboard. He takes a wet cloth and wipes the worst mess off Sergio’s body without a single word. Sergio opens his eyes slowly and with certain effort manages to focus them on Jesús.  
  
“Jesús...” he whispers. “Please...”  
  
Jesús looks up with the same unreadable expression he has all the time, except the moments with Silva. Sergio licks his lips and tries to swallow before taking a deep breath.  
  
“Kill me,” he breathes out.


	7. Seven

Fernando almost falls asleep during breakfast. After what he witnessed last night he couldn‘t go back to sleep. He just laid there next to Raúl, thinking about how he would leave him. He came to the conclusion that he had to disappear without saying anything. At least at night his brain got slightly paranoid and told him that if he didn‘t do it this way, he might end up locked up in another room in this house.  
  
“Fernando?” Raúl’s voice finally breaks through the cloud of his blackest thoughts and he lifts his head.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Are you listening to me?”  
  
Fernando blinks rapidly, trying to look like he’s too sleepy to listen.  
  
“No... sorry, I’m not completely awake yet,” he says. “What were you saying?”  
  
“I was telling you that my associates invited me to Madrid to watch some bullfighting. And I was asking you if you would want to come with me.”  
  
“Me?” Fernando asks.  
  
“I don’t have another husband,” Raúl smiles. “Who else should I bring?”  
  
“I...” Fernando takes a breath. “I would come, but... you know I hate violence. I can’t see blood.”  
  
He isn’t even lying. He can see meat only in its cooked state.  
  
“But I will be gone for three days,” Raúl says. “Are you sure you want to stay here alone?”  
  
“I won’t be alone, will I?” Fernando shrugs. “The house is full of people.”  
  
“Sure,” Raúl nods. “Maybe Juan can teach you some more cake recipes, then.”  
  
Fernando nods absent-mindedly. He can only think about how those three days will be an opportunity to get away from here without Raúl knowing. If he doesn’t know for three days, it will be more difficult for him to find Fernando then. Only that Fernando himself doesn’t know where he wants to go. He doesn’t know what he can do, where he can live and just generally how he can survive without Raúl. Because if he comes back home, it will be the first place Raúl will look for him at.  
  
He doesn’t even try to go to the locked room that day. He knows it’s too risky with Raúl around, and besides, he has the feeling that Sergio wouldn’t want to see anyone.  
  
However, he can’t help himself and asks Iker about the bruises on his forearms when he sees him. Iker doesn’t miss a beat to feed him a story about helping Jesús with some work in the shed. Fernando doesn’t know if he would believe him if he didn’t know how he really came to them, however, he notices the look Raúl shoots at Iker and understands perfectly what it means.  _Be more careful_. Only he’s sure that it only means to be more careful with keeping things away from Fernando. It’s by no means an order to change the habits.  
  


* * *

  
Raúl leaves early in the morning with the carriage that arrives for him from the city. Fernando watches it disappear in the distance. The time is now, he thinks, looking around him, around the place he thought was paradise, the place he thought was to become his home.  
  
He eats the breakfast like nothing is happening. Then he goes down and finds Álvaro.  
  
“Álvaro, tell Pedro to get a horse ready for me, please,” he says. “I want to go for a ride.”  
  
Álvaro blinks in surprise.  
  
“Ah... and... don’t you want to wait for Mr. González to come back, sir?” he asks.  
  
“No, because he won’t be back for three days, and I want to go now.”  
  
“But... you want to go alone? You don’t know the land.”  
  
Fernando folds his arms.  
  
“Go tell Pedro now, or I’ll start to think that you are holding me a prisoner here.”  
  
He puts on an amused voice but he’s sure that it’s exactly what is happening. Álvaro makes a nervous step.  
  
“Of course I’m not, sir, I’m just saying that you shouldn’t...”  
  
“Well, you are nobody to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do!” Fernando snaps and goes to the stairs. “I want the horse ready before I come back. Or else I’ll go to prepare one myself.”  
  
He notices the sparkle in Álvaro’s eyes, something between desperate anger and worry, and smiles for himself. He is almost sorry that he won’t be there when Raúl finds out he’s gone.  
  


* * *

  
Álvaro was right, he doesn‘t know the land, but he‘s following the road which he‘s sure has to lead him somewhere. He now at least has a vague idea of where he wants to go.  
  
Running off to his grandmother in Fuenlabrada is not the manliest thing to do, but it‘s the only thing he can do now.  
  
He tries to imagine what will happen when Raúl comes back and finds out Fernando is missing. He will question the servants. Yell at the servants. Then he will start looking for Fernando. Maybe he will go to his family. Inform the police. Then when he doesn‘t find him, he will probably get drunk, then go and take his anger out on Sergio.  
  
The thought makes him stop his horse. For some reason it makes him feel guilty. He tries to remind himself that he is not responsible for Sergio in any way, but he still feels like the biggest coward. He can run away, hide at his grandmother‘s house, and even if Raúl finds him there, there‘s nothing terrible he could do to him. He can‘t make him come back.  
  
Sergio is not this lucky. He will stay trapped in the room with locked door and bars on the window, with angry, hurt, maybe drunk Raúl. It doesn‘t sound like a scenario he could survive for long.  
  
Fernando stays like that, thinking about what he should do, until his horse shakes its head impatiently like it‘s asking him “Done thinking, friend?”  
  
And Fernando is done thinking. He turns the horse around and heads back to Raúl’s mansion.  
  


* * *

  
The house is quiet when Fernando finally finds the courage to take the key and unlock the door. Sergio wakes up with a start when he walks in.  
  
“It’s me,” Fernando whispers.  
  
Sergio relaxes visibly; even though Fernando thinks he has no rational reason to be sure Fernando won’t hurt him as well. Maybe he just senses it from him. He pushes himself up a bit and smiles. Fernando sits on the bed.  
  
“Raúl is gone,” he says, to calm Sergio down, or maybe to calm himself down as well. “For three days.”  
  
Sergio nods. The corner of his mouth, broken where Álvaro hit him, starts bleeding again. Fernando reaches out and wipes the blood off. Sergio looks at him quizzically.  
  
“Why does Raúl let them do this to you?” Fernando asks. “Álvaro and Iker. He doesn't like to share.”  
  
Sergio doesn’t even ask how he knows. He just hesitates for a while like it’s some secret he’s not sure he can tell Fernando.  
  
“Because then they won’t tell,” he says then. “It’s what he gives them for silence.”  
  
“What about the others, then? Why don’t they tell anyone, how can they just live here knowing this all?”  
  
It’s probably a question he should direct at someone else, but Sergio answers anyway.  
  
“Master is clever,” he says. “He chose well. Silva only speaks with Jesús and Álvaro, he couldn’t tell anyone even if he wanted to, and Jesús just protects Silva.”  
  
“But... Pedro? And Juan?”  
  
“I don’t know about Pedro, I saw him just a few times. He almost doesn’t go inside the house. He probably doesn’t care. And Juan... ” Sergio laughs bitterly. “Why would he say anything when he’s the one who brought me here?”  
  
Fernando opens his mouth but doesn’t know what to say. Sergio shrugs like there is nothing strange about it.  
  
“Why would anyone care?”  
  
“I care,” Fernando says.  
  
Sergio looks at him, caught off-guard.  
  
“Why?” he whispers.  
  
“Because you don’t deserve this. Nobody deserves this. It’s wrong, it’s all kinds of wrong, and it has to stop.”  
  
Sergio just keeps staring at him like there is something about Fernando he’s just not getting. Like Fernando speaks a foreign language.  
  
“But... You have everything. Why would you risk it for me?” he asks.  
  
“Everything? What do I have, Sergio? A husband whom I thought to be someone else, a house full of servants who don’t even act human? I don’t want any of this.”  
  
He runs a hand through his hair.  
  
“I wanted to run away today,” he says. “I was miles away from the house, but I came back.”  
  
He takes a breath and looks at Sergio.  
  
“I came back because I realized that I couldn’t leave you.”  
  
“Leave... me?”  
  
“He would kill you, Sergio.”  
  
“Maybe it would be better,” Sergio shrugs. “I won’t leave this house otherwise than dead anyway.”  
  
“No,” Fernando shakes his head. “I will get you out of here. I just need to think of how to do it.”  
  
“It’s impossible,” Sergio breathes out like Fernando is scaring him. “He would find us, he would find us everywhere. You... you don’t know him like I do.”  
  
In this Fernando is quite ready to believe him. He takes a breath when suddenly Sergio takes him by the hand.  
  
“You can’t do it,” Sergio whispers. “You can’t let him hurt you for me.”  
  
“He won’t hurt me,” Fernando says firmly. “And I have to do it. You would do it for a friend as well, wouldn’t you?”  
  
“A friend?” Sergio chokes out. “I am... your friend?”  
  
“If you want to,” Fernando nods.  
  
Sergio’s eyes bore into his and he gives a small, shy smile. Fernando reaches out for him and Sergio tenses for a moment. Then Fernando wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a hug, just holding him until Sergio lays his hands on his back tentatively. Fernando smiles and caresses his back comfortingly.  
  
“I need you to promise me something,” he whispers.  
  
“What?” Sergio asks, snuggling to him more like he can’t get enough of Fernando’s warmth. Fernando lets him.  
  
“I need you to promise me you won’t think about dying ever again,” Fernando says. “I will think of a way to get you out of here, but before I do, I need you to stay strong.”  
  
“I’m not strong,” Sergio mumbles.  
  
“Yes, you are. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met.”  
  
“Alright,” Sergio whispers.  
  
“You promise?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Fernando looks at him and smiles. Sergio smiles as well and then touches Fernando’s face.  
  
“You’re really beautiful,” he says. “I like your freckles.”  
  
Fernando laughs but blushes at the same time, and then thinks about how strange it is.  
  
Out of his whole appearance, the freckles are the one thing Raúl never appreciated.


	8. Eight

Fernando keeps thinking about his promise to Sergio all day. To get Sergio out is easier to say than to do. Maybe it wouldn‘t be so hard to unlock the door at night and simply get out of the house, even to take two horses from the stables and get away.  
  
The problem is that they would have nowhere to go.  
  
To go to Fernando’s grandmother was a provisional plan even when Fernando thought he would be alone. Now they would have to go somewhere Raúl couldn’t find them, which excludes all Fernando’s family. And then, they wouldn’t even have anything to eat and where to live. Fernando is not delusional when it comes to his skills; he’s never worked and doesn’t know what he could even do.  
  
He realizes that this needs more planning than it takes courage.  
  


* * *

  
He decides to go for a ride the next morning, hoping that the fresh air will help him think. Álvaro still eyes him with certain suspicion, but Fernando ignores him. On his way out of the house, he sees Juan talking to Iker, laughing about something. He wonders how he could be so wrong about him. Wonders why Juan would bring Sergio to this house, and even if he didn’t know what would happen to him there, then why he would do nothing about it later. More than even he feels like shouting at everyone that he knows their secret, and ask for answers. But he knows that it would be possibly the worst thing to do.  
  
He leads the horse towards the closest village. He needs to see people, other people than those from the house, even if he shouldn’t speak to them.  
  
The first thing he can see is a church. Fernando doesn’t go to church often, but now it looks like a good place to go.  
  
Before he can even reach the church, he notices the small cemetery next to it. When he was a kid, he used to go the cemetery close to his house. It was just the right amount of creepy and he liked it. Now a cemetery can’t scare him anymore, leave alone in the daylight, but he goes there anyway.  
  
He walks through the part where the grass is high and the tombstones old, some already crumbling or standing all crooked. The names are not legible on them anymore and there are no flowers, no candles.  
  
Then he comes to the part of the cemetery that is being kept neat. Candles are burning on some of the graves and there are fresh flowers here and there. Fernando wanders between the tombstones, reading the names on them just out of curiosity.  
  
Suddenly he stops in front of a tombstone almost by the wall of the cemetery. It’s simple, no decorations except a cross engraved on it below the name and the dates. There is a tiny bouquet of flowers, already withered, laying on it. It’s not even the name that would catch Fernando’s attention in the first place, but the date, five years old, confirms his deductions and he feels a shiver running down his spine.  
  
He is standing in front of Sergio’s grave.  
  


* * *

  
He almost jumps up when he hears someone’s steps behind him. He turns around briskly and finds himself face to face with a man dressed in a long black frock, not that much older than Fernando. He’s probably younger than Raúl. A priest, without a doubt.  
  
“I’m very sorry to interrupt,” the priest says. “It’s just that I have never seen you here before.”  
  
“Ah... I...” Fernando takes a breath to calm himself down. “I am Fernando, Fernando Torres. I live with Raúl González on his mansion.”  
  
“Mr. González,” the priest repeats with an unreadable expression. “Well, be welcome here, Mr. Torres. I’m Father Xabier Alonso.”  
  
Fernando shakes his hand. Father Alonso’s eyes flicker to the tombstone they are standing by.  
  
“Actually, I was interested in why you were standing by this particular grave,” he says. “Did you know him?”  
  
Fernando hesitates for a while, but then judges it unsafe to reveal the truth. He doesn’t know this man, doesn’t know if he knows Raúl.  
  
“No,” he says finally. “Did you?”  
  
“I only came here two years ago,” Father Alonso says. “I know his sister, though. She comes to the mass every Sunday. Brings the flowers.”  
  
Fernando feels his heart becoming heavier than it ever felt.  
  
“I just stopped here because...” he bites his lower lip. “I thought... someone so young...”  
  
“Oh, yes...” Father Alonso nods. “Cholera, I was told. Well, we never know when we will come back to our Father. We only know He will take care of us all.”  
  
As for now, He’s not doing good job for Sergio, Fernando thinks.  
  
“Well, Mr. Torres, it was my pleasure. You are always welcome here, for the mass, or whatever you may need.”  
  
Fernando smiles and nods. Father Alonso retreats to the small chapel in the corner of the cemetery. Fernando looks for the last time at the tombstone, the flowers and Sergio’s name engraved in the cold stone. It all looks so surreal, but Fernando is sure that Sergio has wished many times he was really lying under this stone.  
  


* * *

  
When he comes to the locked room, Sergio’s eyes light up like a child’s. Fernando marvels at his trustfulness, the way he is sure Fernando won’t hurt him even though he knows nothing about him. He wonders if it’s what got him where he is now.  
  
“You’re so nice that you came,” Sergio smiles.  
  
“I promised you I would,” Fernando says and sits on the bed. “I’ve been thinking, about how to get out of here. But I couldn’t think of anything.”  
  
“I think it’s impossible. Master would find us everywhere.”  
  
“No, he wouldn’t. We just need to think of a place where we could go.”  
  
Sergio looks at him as though he isn’t even listening. Like he doesn’t care what Fernando is saying, he just keeps watching him like looking at him and being in his presence is all that it takes for him to feel happy.  
  
“He‘s coming back tomorrow, “ Fernando sighs. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”  
  
“What you’ll do?” Sergio frowns.  
  
“Yes, I... I can’t stand sleeping in the bed next to him anymore; I don’t know how long I can pretend that I don’t know about you. And I can’t stand knowing that he does all the... things that he does to you.”  
  
Sergio touches Fernando’s hand.  
  
“I promised you I’d be strong,” he says. “Whatever he does, I can take it.”  
  
“How can you know?” Fernando whispers.  
  
“Because before he could hurt my body and my soul, but now all he can hurt is the body. Because my soul is with you.”  
  
Fernando smiles and then moves forward and hugs him. Sergio holds onto him like he wants to take in as much of his warmth as he can.  
  
“Your name is Ramos, right?” Fernando whispers then. “Sergio Ramos.”  
  
Sergio pulls back slightly, looking him in the eyes.  
  
“How do you know?” he asks.  
  
Fernando swallows.  
  
“I saw your grave.”  
  
Sergio’s eyes glint.  
  
“Where?”  
  
“At the village cemetery, next to the church. I saw it and talked to the priest, but he doesn’t know you.”  
  
“So it’s true,” Sergio whispers and closes his eyes. “I really have a grave.”  
  
Fernando nods and bites his lip.  
  
“I... I know something else as well, but I don’t know if I should tell you.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I don’t want to make you sad.”  
  
Sergio looks up at him.  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
“The priest says your sister comes to the mass every Sunday and brings flowers to your grave.”  
  
Sergio just keeps staring at him. Then he curls up in his arms and starts sobbing quietly. Fernando sighs.  
  
“See, I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to make you sad.”  
  
“I’m not sad. Or... I don’t know.”  
  
He looks up and finds Fernando’s eyes.  
  
“I’m glad that you told me.”  
  
Fernando lifts his hand to wipe off the tears rolling down Sergio’s cheeks. Next thing he knows, Sergio’s lips are on his, not really applying any pressure, more like just touching. It feels nothing like all the kisses he’s known until now. He moves his lips tentatively, fitting their mouths together. Sergio’s hand creeps in his hair.  
  
“Can I?” he asks quietly.  
  
“What?” Fernando breathes.  
  
“Kiss you.”  
  
“I thought you were already doing it.”  
  
To his surprise, Sergio laughs. Actually laughs.  
  
“I mean a real kiss.”  
  
“A... real kiss?”  
  
Sergio nods and touches Fernando’s lips with his again. Fernando’s eyes fly open in surprise when Sergio’s tongue slides in his mouth. It feels strange at first and he doesn’t really know what to do. Then Sergio entwines his tongue with Fernando’s and something makes Fernando move closer, almost in Sergio’s lap, and press against him.  
  
He is completely out of breath when Sergio lets go of him. He can feel his cheeks flush.  
  
“I... it was the first time I did this,” he says, blushing like a boy.  
  
“Me too,” Sergio says.  
  
Fernando frowns.  
  
“Well, not the first time I did this,” Sergio corrects himself. “But the first time I kissed someone I really wanted to kiss.”  
  
Fernando smiles, even though Sergio’s words hurt him. He looks out of the window. The sun is already setting.  
  
“I should go,” he says.  
  
Sergio nods but doesn’t seem to be ready to let go of Fernando’s hand.  
  
“I’ll come when I can,” Fernando says.  
  
“Be careful,” Sergio whispers.  
  
Fernando walks out of the room, locks it and slides the key in his pocket. In his mind he’s still with Sergio, replaying their kiss over and over, submerged in his thoughts so much that he practically crushes into the person that appears from behind the corner.  
  
Fernando lifts his head and his eyes meet Silva’s, shining with suspicion.  
 **  
**


	9. Nine

Fernando waits for Silva to be alone and corners him on one of the corridors. Silva tries to avoid him, so Fernando puts an arm on the wall, blocking his way.  
  
“Wait. I need to talk to you.”  
  
Silva looks at him, a mixture of reluctance, fear and guilt in his eyes. Then he shakes his head and tries to sneak under Fernando’s arm. Fernando pushes him back against the wall.  
  
“I need you to understand something.”  
  
He feels like he can explain this to Silva. After all, he looks like he’s the only one who could understand that what is going on in here is wrong.  
  
Silva looks at him and steps back, pushing himself in the corner like he could disappear through it. Fernando takes a breath.  
  
“Sir?” a voice sounds behind his back and he turns around.  
  
Jesús is looking at him, a polite look on his face but from his eyes Fernando understands that he’s breaking the boundaries. Jesús sneaks past him to take Silva’s hand. He looks at him like he’s examining whether Fernando did him any harm or not.  
  
“If you need anything, sir, you can tell me,” Jesús says and motions for Silva to go.  
  
Before Fernando can say anything, Silva disappears behind the corner. Jesús looks at Fernando.  
  
“He only speaks to Álvaro and me, sir,” Jesús says in a forcibly calm voice. “We don’t know why, it’s just like that. He can’t speak with anyone else. So if you want to give orders, it’s alright. If you have questions, you’ll have to ask me or someone else.”  
  
Fernando presses his lips together.  
  
“I didn’t want to ask questions,” he says. “Rather clarify something.”  
  
“If you are not content with something he does, I suggest telling Mr. González,” Jesús continues. “He shall decide about the punishment.”  
  
“But I don’t want to punish anyone, for God’s sake!” Fernando shouts desperately and then takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “Forget it. Forget that I wanted anything.”  
  
He walks up the stairs and bangs the door of his bedroom behind him. All he can hope for is that he scared Silva enough for him not to tell anyone.  
  


* * *

  
Raúl comes back in the late afternoon. Fernando manages to put on a smile, to greet him with a hug, to ask him about his journey. Sergio promised him he would be strong, Fernando has to keep the same promise.  
  
“Did you enjoy the trip?” Fernando asks.  
  
“Oh, the business part of it was boring as always,” Raúl smiles. “I enjoyed the corrida, though. But I think you wouldn’t want me to go too much in details.”  
  
“Nothing that involves blood,” Fernando says.  
  
“Oh, but it’s not just about blood, darling,” Raúl smiles. “It’s art.”  
  
“How is making an animal suffer art in any way?” Fernando asks. “It’s like you said making a human being suffer was art as well.”  
  
He says it on purpose and sees a mysterious smile appear on Raúl’s lips fleetingly before he puts on the condescending one.  
  
“You still only see the blood and the dead bull. But what the torero does is art. It’s like dancing, like a ritual of some sort. It’s beautiful, and even if he was an ordinary person out of the arena, when he enters, he’s beautiful... and powerful.”  
  
Fernando folds his arms.  
  
“Now you are talking in general or you mean a specific man?”  
  
“Are you jealous?” Raúl chuckles. “I mean in general, but truth is that there are excellent men among them.”  
  
He sits on the sofa and smiles.  
  
“What about you?” he says then. “What did you do when I was away?”  
  
Fernando hesitates. Then he decides to try something.  
  
“Nothing special,” he says. “I went for a ride twice. I was in the village, too. At church. And I spoke to Father Alonso.”  
  
Raúl’s expression changes in mere seconds into one of anger. He rises from the sofa and grips Fernando’s shoulder so tight that it’s almost painful.  
  
“I don’t want you to go there anymore,” he says resolutely.  
  
Fernando flinches.  
  
“Why?” he asks.  
  
“Because I said so. I don’t want you to go to that village anymore and I don’t want you to talk to Father Alonso.”  
  
“But why?” Fernando insists. “He’s a priest, what could possibly be bad about him?”  
  
“Being a priest doesn’t make you a good person yet,” Raúl says. “He has... strange opinions. I don’t want you to talk to him anymore.”  
  
Fernando pouts and shakes Raúl‘s hand off his shoulder. Raúl runs a hand through his hair.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says then. “I didn’t mean to scare you, darling.”  
  
Fernando wants to tell him that he can’t scare him anymore by simply squeezing his shoulder when he has seen him doing unthinkable things to Sergio, but he just nods and leaves the room. At least now he has an excuse for not talking to him for a while.  
  


* * *

  
They dine almost in silence. Fernando can’t believe that only a few weeks ago he was the happiest person in the world, that he deeply loved the man sitting opposite to him. He would still love him, had he not known about Sergio. All that Raúl does is what a loving husband should do. Except for keeping a boy locked in his house.  
  
He doesn‘t even think of what Raúl expects from him until they are in the bed. Raúl was gone for three days and they haven‘t slept together for a while now, also because of Fernando‘s feigned illness. When Raúl reaches out for him, Fernando wants to pull away and make up an excuse. Then a thought flies through his mind. If he gives Raúl what he wants, he won‘t go to Sergio.  
  
He closes his eyes when Raúl kisses him, tries to think about something else, someone else. Not Sergio, because he doesn‘t want to connect Raúl with him in this way, and he searches his mind for other people he could imagine at Raúl‘s place but everyone he can think of is highly inappropriate for that purpose. At least thinking of Father Alonso seems highly inappropriate, and thinking of Álvaro or Iker equals looking at Raúl because they disgust him about the same. He decides to go with Juan in the end, even though he doesn‘t despise him any less, he at least doesn‘t know much about him, he has never seen him doing anything bad in person.  
  
Thinking of him has strange effects on Fernando, he realizes. He feels somehow detached, lost only in the sensations. It makes things easier. He wonders if Sergio has a trick to put up with what Raúl, Álvaro or Iker do to him, if he thinks of someone else as well.  
  
Raúl hits the right spot inside him and Fernando moans, actually moans, loudly and sensually, and he despises himself for it, but it only encourages Raúl to move and hit it again, drawing a stream of pleas out of Fernando, who actually wants to beg him to stop but Raúl quickens his pace and drives him to the point Fernando doesn‘t want to reach, leaving him completely drained and boneless and on the verge of crying when the images he has created in his head disappear and he realizes who is really touching him.  
  
Fernando isn‘t sure he will be able to look at Juan ever again.  
  


* * *

  
Fernando wakes up early in the morning and looks next to him. Raúl isn‘t there. Fernando gets up and creeps to the stairs. When he is about to enter the kitchen, he can hear Raúl‘s voice. He hides behind the door and peeks through the gap.  
  
Raúl is standing there, in the clothes he uses to ride his horse, with a hunting knife on his belt. All the servants including Pedro are gathered there.  
  
“Who let Fernando go to the village?” Raúl asks in a dangerous voice.  
  
Pedro and Álvaro exchange worried looks.  
  
“Sir, I tried to talk him out of it,” Álvaro says.  
  
“You obviously failed.”  
  
“Sir, I... he insisted. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t lock him in the house.”  
  
Raúl nods in what seems to be regret. Then he looks at Álvaro again.  
  
“I put you in charge of this house because I thought you were competent enough to take care of everyone in here. But as I see, you are not able to put a whimsical boy in his place,” he says and Fernando’s mouth goes dry. “You are not in charge anymore. Iker will take your place now.”  
  
Álvaro opens his mouth as if to protest, but closes it again. Iker bows to Raúl slightly, but doesn‘t seem to be too overjoyed with being promoted to the position.  
  
“And I hope the rest of you know what I require from you.”  
  
Juan nods with what seems to be a devoted look. Jesús looks at Raúl, then at Silva and then back at Raúl. He makes a few steps to Raúl and tells him something Fernando can’t make out as Jesús is practically whispering in Raúl’s ear. Raúl furrows his brows and looks at Silva who gives him a frightened look.  
  
“Alright,” Raúl says and grabs Silva’s arm. “Come with me. We’ll ask our dear Sergio what he has to say about it.”  
  


* * *

  
Fernando only has time to run up the stairs and hide in the room next to Sergio’s. In the next moment, Raúl unlocks the door and walks in, dragging Silva along.  
  
Sergio wakes up and upon seeing Raúl slides down from the bed and kneels before him with his head down. Raúl smirks and tilts his head up.  
  
“Glad that I’m back, Sergio?” he bellows.  
  
“Yes, Master,” Sergio whispers. “I couldn’t wait to see you, Master.”  
  
“Really?” Raúl asks with feigned surprise. “But I’m told by Silva here that you didn’t feel very lonely. It seems like my husband was keeping you company. Isn’t that so?”  
  
Sergio’s eyes go wide and Fernando himself forgets to breathe. Raúl yanks on Sergio’s hair.  
  
“Answer me. Do you talk to Fernando when I’m not here?”  
  
Sergio blinks rapidly.  
  
“N-no, I don’t,” he breathes then.  
  
“So he is lying?” Raúl asks with his brows raised. “So Silva is a liar, Sergio?”  
  
Sergio just looks at him, absolutely frightened.  
  
“Well, then...” Raúl sighs.  
  
With one swift movement, he pushes Silva down to his knees and puts his hunting knife to his throat. Silva squeezes his eyes shut, but otherwise doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t try to move, like he is absolutely convinced Raúl has every right to kill him.  
  
“You know how much I hate liars, Sergio,” Raúl says. “If he indeed lies to me, you know I will kill him. You know it. I ask you one last time, Sergio, and think well about what you say. Did he lie to me about Fernando visiting you?”  
  
Sergio’s lips shiver when he looks Raúl in the eyes.  
  
“No,” he whispers.  
  
“No?” Raúl raises his brows.  
  
Sergio finally breaks down, curling up on the floor, crying uncontrollably.  
  
“No, he didn’t lie, please, he’s not a liar, I am, I lied to you, please, Master...”  
  
Raúl puts the knife away and hauls Silva back to his feet gently.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, pressing his lips against Silva’s temple. “I’m sorry. You are a good boy. Forgive me.”  
  
Silva nods and raises his hand to touch his neck like he can’t believe he’s still alive until he runs his hand over it. His fingers are shaking. Raúl looks at Sergio who is still sobbing on the floor and then hauls him up.  
  
“Look at what you’ve done!” he barks at him. “Silva cares about you, and you accuse him of lying like this, even though you know how I punish liars. You deserve to be punished for lying here, don’t you?”  
  
Sergio nods despite choking on his tears.  
  
“Yes, you do,” Raúl says. “Well, I suppose you knew all along how this would end. That one of you would have to die, and I cannot kill Fernando.”  
  
He pauses for a while and watches Sergio’s eyes go wide. Then he puts on a less stern face.  
  
“However... I won’t kill you if Silva forgives you.”  
  
Sergio looks at him pleadingly. Raúl shoves him towards Silva and folds his arms.  
  
“Come on,” he says. “Beg for mercy.”  
  
Sergio turns back to look at Raúl who is leaning over the bed with his arms folded. He sinks to his knees in front of Silva.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I’m sorry, Silva, sorry for lying, I’m sorry, forgive me, please, I don’t want to die, please...”  
  
His pleading turns into incoherent stream of words and then into quiet sobbing. Silva stands there, looking at Sergio with blank expression, and he doesn’t say a single word.


	10. Ten

“Too bad Silva never speaks with any of us,” Raúl states after a while. “Then...”  
  
He draws the knife again. In that moment, Silva moves briskly and crouching in front of Sergio, throws his arms around his neck and hugs him.  
  
Raúl watches on, taken slightly aback.  
  
“Well...” he says then, clearing his throat. “I guess we could take this as forgiveness.”  
  
Silva lets go of Sergio and stands up carefully. Raúl puts his knife back and turns to him.  
  
“You can go. I and Sergio need to talk.”  
  
Silva nods and runs out of the room eagerly. Raúl stands in front of Sergio who is still sobbing on the floor.  
  
“Get up!” he says.  
  
Sergio stills but doesn’t move.  
  
“Get up!” Raúl repeats in a more dangerous voice.  
  
Sergio scrambles to his feet. Raúl walks over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room and unlocks it. He takes his time rummaging in it before he finds what he wanted, putting it under his belt. He turns to Sergio and points to the bed. Sergio approaches it carefully and then climbs on it. He takes off his shirt and lets Raúl tie his wrists to the headboard without fighting back, like he hopes that not making him angry any further will make whatever punishment Raúl has in mind better.  
  
“So,” Raúl says and makes a step back to look at Sergio from the side of the bed. “How long?”  
  
Sergio gives him a confused look.  
  
“How long does it last? Since when does Fernando know about you?”  
  
“I... I don’t know,” Sergio says.  
  
Raúl shakes his head and reaches behind him. Sergio’s eyes go wide when he pulls out a cat-o’-nine-tails with knotted cords.  
  
“You might want to speak while you still can speak, Sergio,” he says, letting the cords run between his fingers. “I’ve never used this because I thought it would never have to come to this, but I’ve heard boys like you won’t last long under the cat.”  
  
He outstretches his hand and lets the cords touch Sergio’s back.  
  
“So tell me, since when does Fernando know about you?”  
  
“Before... before you went away,” Sergio says. “H-he... I swear I didn’t...”  
  
“You didn’t tell me about it, yes,” Raúl nods and swings his hand.  
  
Sergio squeezes his eyes shut but Raúl slows down and only lets the cords lightly tap him on the back.  
  
“So what is it going on between you two that you can’t tell me about it? Have you forgotten who you belong to?”  
  
“No, no, Master, I haven’t!” Sergio blurts out. “I belong to you, only you!”  
  
“Yes, you do,” Raúl confirms.  
  
“Fernando is... he was just nice to me, Master.”  
  
“Is this supposed to mean that I am not nice to you?” Raúl frowns.  
  
Sergio hesitates for a moment. Raúl swings the cat, this time letting it hit Sergio’s back hard. Sergio falls forward, gasping, the pain being too much for him to let him scream. Raúl admires the red gauges on his back for a while.  
  
“So, how many of these do you think you can take?” he asks then.  
  


* * *

  
Fernando collects himself and forces himself to think. He realizes that once Raúl is done with Sergio and once he confronts him, he might not be able to get out of the house again. Sure, Raúl said he wouldn’t kill him, but he can do something else. Lock him up, for example. So that he will have two toys instead of one.  
  
He creeps out of the room and runs to the stairs that lead to the back door. He knows that if he went through the kitchen, he would walk right into Álvaro’s and Iker’s arms, and that would equal running into Raúl.  
  
He crosses the garden to the gate in the back and then freezes. Jesús and Silva are sitting in the gazebo. Silva is hiding his face in Jesús’ shirt and Jesús seems to be comforting him. When they hear Fernando’s steps, they both look up. Fernando stands still for a moment, just looking at them. Then Silva hides his face back in Jesús’ shirt and Jesús looks away, pretending he didn’t see Fernando at all. Fernando lets out a sigh of relief and runs towards the gate.  
  
It takes him at least an hour to get to the village, and he runs almost all the way. But taking a horse would be too risky. He is sure Pedro wouldn’t let him go anywhere.  
  
He runs in the church and looks around. There’s no sight of Father Alonso and Fernando doesn’t really know where to go look for him. Then he spots a door leading to the vestry. He runs there as though it’s the only last safe place on Earth.  
  
Father Alonso turns to him in surprise.  
  
“I need your help,” Fernando breathes out.  
  


* * *

  
Fernando gulps down the glass of water Father Alonso hands him. His heart is still racing but at least he can speak now. Father Alonso is looking at him with worry. Fernando thinks it’s strange to see him without the frock, he is wearing casual pants and only the shirt with the clerical collar is reminding him that he’s a priest.  
  
“I told Raúl that I spoke to you, and he got angry. Forbade me to see you again,” he says. “Father, I think you know something about him, something bad that he doesn’t want me to know, and I need you to tell me.”  
  
Father Alonso sighs.  
  
“I don’t think I can tell you, son. It involves a seal of confession that I cannot break.”  
  
“Whose? Raúl’s?”  
  
“Oh, no!” Father Alonso shakes his head. “As far as I know he never came to make a confession. No, it’s... why do you need to know all this?”  
  
“Because now I know Raúl isn’t who I thought him to be, and I just need to know how much I was wrong about him.”  
  
Father Alonso sighs and looks at him, still hesitating. Then he nods like he’s just made a decision.  
  
“Alright, I will tell you. I think it can’t do any harm anyway.”  
  
He sits opposite to Fernando and looks at him.  
  
“Shortly after I came here, before a mass, a young man came to make a confession. He told me that he had sinned gravely, but not in his own will... I said it’s impossible to sin if you don’t will to sin, and he said his master made him do it.”  
  
“Made him do what?” Fernando asks but doesn’t think he wants to know.  
  
“He didn’t say,” Father Alonso says. “He fled when I asked. A few days later, they found a young man in the forests between the village and the González mansion. He hanged himself.”  
  
Father Alonso crosses himself and murmurs “peace to his soul” but Fernando isn’t listening.  
  
“But... how do you know...” he blurts out.  
  
“The people from the village recognized him. They said he was a servant at the González mansion.”  
  
“But... you didn’t tell anyone?” Fernando asks in disbelief.  
  
“I couldn’t,” Father Alonso objects. “Besides, I had no evidence that there was a connection between Mr. González and the suicide of the poor man. Even if I broke the seal of confession, the man took his own life, what do you want to accuse Mr. González of?”  
  
Fernando bites his lip and looks at him.  
  
“I know of something.”  
  
“You mean...”  
  
“It will sound utterly crazy, but believe me, Father, I am not insane and all I will tell you is true.”  
  
“I’m listening, son.”  
  
“Remember when we talked about the boy who has the grave here? Sergio?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I lied to you. I knew him. I know him.”  
  
Fernando takes a breath.  
  
“Father, Sergio is not dead.”  
  


* * *

  
Father Alonso grabs Fernando’s hand when he gets up to leave.  
  
“You can’t go back, son!” he says.  
  
“I have to,” Fernando shakes his head. “If I don’t come back, he will kill him, I know it.”  
  
“What if he hurts you?”  
  
“I have to risk it,” Fernando whispers. “I promised Sergio I wouldn’t leave him, that I would find a way to save him. I can’t just flee.”  
  
Father Alonso sighs deeply.  
  
“Be careful. I will do what will be in my might, but I can’t promise anything. People here have a huge respect for Mr. González and in the city the most respectable men owe him a lot of money, I understood. It won’t be easy to persuade them.”  
  
“You’re a priest,” Fernando objects.  
  
“Yes,” Father Alonso smiles. “Unfortunately nowadays people fear such Mr. González more than they fear God.”  
  


* * *

  
Fernando waits in the bedroom. He doesn’t try to go and talk to Raúl. Raúl hasn’t showed up since Fernando came back and he suspects it’s a form of torture. He wants Fernando to stew in his own fear for a while before he confronts him. But Álvaro makes sure Fernando doesn’t go anywhere as either him or one of the other servants check the bedroom regularly under various pretenses.  
  
Finally Raúl walks in and looks at Fernando like it’s him who is hurt here, whose dreams and life were just destroyed, not Fernando’s.  
  
“Oh, darling,” he sighs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
“Why didn’t I tell you what?” Fernando asks. “That you are holding a boy prisoner here, that you and your servants torture him? Why should I tell you, you must know that yourself.”  
  
Raúl smiles leniently and sits down.  
  
“I would explain it to you.”  
  
“What is there to explain?” Fernando asks in disbelief.  
  
“I know that it’s hard to understand,” Raúl says with endless patience like Fernando was crazy. “But this has been going on in my family for years and years, even centuries.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Fernando asks, his voice shaking.  
  
“My ancestors always married men or women from good families, like yours. I knew with me it wouldn’t be different. It is all for your protection.”  
  
“My protection?” Fernando looks at him with wide eyes.  
  
“Dear, I confess, I am not a saint. I am not entirely good, I know this about myself. It’s not my fault, it’s running in the family... that is why my ancestors started with this tradition. Their spouses were delicate, fragile creatures with good upbringing, like you are. To want some... practices from them was unthinkable, but there is this need rooted deep inside us. You understand? Sergio is here so that I don’t have to hurt you.”  
  
“No,” Fernando says shakily. “He has been here for five years.”  
  
“Of course,” Raúl nods. “Because I knew that one day I would get married.”  
  
Fernando just keeps looking at him.  
  
“If you had just told me, dear... I didn’t want you to be upset, I didn’t want you to see me as a monster, that is why I didn’t tell you about it. But if you just told me that you knew...”  
  
“Then what? What would you do?”  
  
“I wouldn’t have anything against you... going to see Sergio, dear. If you wanted to be friends with him... I just didn’t want you to be upset.”  
  
“You mean that you wouldn’t mind me going there as long as I was silent about it. Like your servants are.”  
  
Raúl smiles and shrugs.  
  
“Any of this doesn’t change anything I feel towards you, Fernando,” he says quietly. “You are my husband, my one and only one. I would never hurt you.”  
  
“But I don’t want you to be hurting Sergio because of me.”  
  
“It’s not because of you, don’t feel guilty, darling.”  
  
“You just said it was because of me.”  
  
“It would happen anyway, had I married you or someone else. It’s in my blood, I can’t change it, I can’t fight it.”  
  
“That is not Sergio’s fault!”  
  
Raúl takes a breath but is interrupted by a knock on the door.  
  
“What?” he yells.  
  
Iker peeks in and motions for Raúl to come out. Raúl turns to Fernando and smiles.  
  
“We will talk later,” he says and walks out.  
  
Fernando falls back on the bed and covers his face with his hands. He doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. Then he gets up. If Raúl said he could talk to Sergio whenever he wanted to, then he wants to do it now.


	11. Eleven

Fernando unlocks the door and comes in. He tiptoes to the bed and sighs in relief when he sees that Sergio is breathing, even though otherwise it isn’t a pleasant sight. His back is full of red marks, some of them deep enough to cut in the skin and bleed. It looks like someone at least tried to clean the wounds and Fernando suspects Jesús, but there isn’t much he could do. There are bruises around Sergio’s wrists left from all the struggling against the rope. His hair is falling in his face and sticking to his forehead.  
  
Fernando sits on the bed and pushes the strands of Sergio’s hair back. Sergio stirs and opens his eyes, trying to focus them on Fernando, but then closes them again.  
  
“Fernando...” he whispers as though Fernando is a pleasant dream.  
  
“Yes, it’s me.”  
  
Suddenly Sergio’s eyes snap open and he gives Fernando a panicked look.  
  
“He knows, Fernando, he knows about...”  
  
“Shh,” Fernando soothes him. “I know he does.”  
  
He pours some water from the jar on the nightstand into a glass and helps Sergio drink.  
  
“It has to hurt terribly,” Fernando whispers, wincing like the pain was his. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“It’s not so bad,” Sergio lies. “He... he didn’t hurt you, right?”  
  
“He did,” Fernando whispers. “By hurting you.”  
  
Sergio looks at him for a moment and then hides his face in the pillow.  
  
“Why didn’t you go? You should have run away when you had the chance!” he sobs.  
  
“You know that I couldn’t, Sergio,” Fernando says firmly. “But I’m not the only one who knows about you now.”  
  
Sergio gives him a confused look.  
  
“Who...”  
  
“I told the priest. Told him you weren’t dead. He believed me. He will try to help us.”  
  
Sergio just keeps looking at him and Fernando can see the battle he fights inside, like he is afraid to let any hope get to him, but at the same time he wants to believe it. Fernando feels the same, but in addition he feels terribly helpless because all he has are words.  
  
“What can I do for you?” Fernando asks.  
  
“Kiss me,” Sergio smiles.  
  
Fernando blinks but then leans in, tilts Sergio’s head enough to reach his lips and kisses him. Sergio closes his eyes and leaves all the initiative on Fernando, just responding to his actions.  
  
“I already feel better,” he whispers when Fernando pulls back.  
  
Fernando smiles even though he feels more like crying.  
  
“We’ll get out of here,” he says. “We will. I’ll get you out of here. And then nobody will hurt you ever again, I promise.”  
  
Sergio looks at him with tired eyes.  
  
“Why?” he whispers.  
  
“Why what?”  
  
“Why would you do that?”  
  
Fernando thinks of scolding him first because he thought they were past such questions, but then decides against it.  
  
“It’s what friends do,” he says.  
  


* * *

  
When Raúl walks in the bedroom, he almost bumps into Fernando who is on his way out.  
  
“I am not sleeping here,” he announces.  
  
Raúl looks at him.  
  
“I can’t sleep here,” Fernando adds. “Right now, I can’t.”  
  
“Fernando...” Raúl starts.  
  
“No, I can’t. I need... time.”  
  
He doesn’t specify for what he needs time. He doesn’t even know himself. Time for thinking about what to do. Time for making up a plan to get away. But Raúl obviously understands it differently. For him, Fernando probably needs time to accept the situation. Only Fernando is sure he couldn’t accept it even in a hundred years.  
  
“Alright,” Raúl says then.  
  
“I’ll take a guest room,” Fernando says.  
  
He doesn’t specify which one. Raúl doesn’t ask. Fernando walks out of the room, enters the one next to Sergio’s and closes the door. He plops onto the bed and stares into the ceiling, listening to the house going quiet.  
  


* * *

  
It’s the sound of steps and of door being opened that rouses him from the drowse. A tiny ray of light shines through the hole drilled in the wall. Fernando sits up abruptly and puts his eye to it, heart beating rapidly.  
  
The steps belong to Iker who enters Sergio’s room with a lamp in his hand.  
  
“It’s Friday, Sergio,” Iker bellows putting the lamp on the bedside table. “But I see you’re not in the mood.”  
  
Sergio gives him a frightened look and then looks around as if searching for something.  
  
“Oh, yes, I told Álvaro you wouldn’t be any good tonight. He said it was alright if you owed him for tonight.”  
  
“Thank you, Iker,” Sergio says bluntly.  
  
“But owing him and me at the same time would be too much, wouldn’t it?” Iker asks.  
  
It’s a rather rhetorical question and he doesn’t really wait for an answer. Still, Sergio tries.  
  
“Iker, please...”  
  
Iker smiles, crouching next to the bed and running a hand up Sergio’s neck, into his hair.  
  
“Don’t worry, Sergio, I have a deal for you.”  
  
He pulls out a small bottle made of tinted glass, with a dropper on top. He lifts it to Sergio’s eyes.  
  
“You know what this is, right?” he asks.  
  
“Laudanum,” Sergio breathes.  
  
“Such a clever boy you are, Sergio,” Iker praises him, petting his head. “You know what this does, don’t you?”  
  
Sergio nods, his eyes still on the bottle like there is nothing in the world he craves more.  
  
“The deal is simple – you get a dose, I get you.”  
  
Sergio hesitates. Iker puts the bottle down and sighs.  
  
“Or I can as well call Juan and tell him that it’s his lucky day because nor me, nor Álvaro want you tonight. If that’s what you want. I’m sure he will be delighted.”  
  
“No, no...” Sergio pleads, his face showing the biggest fear Fernando has ever seen him show. “No, I want you!”  
  
A contented grin appears on Iker’s face. Then he unscrews the bottle.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll wait for it to kick in. You will feel nothing,” he says. “Or almost nothing.”  
  
Fernando gets up briskly, runs to the door and then into the next room. Iker turns to him briskly, a glint of worry in his eyes, but then he relaxes.  
  
“Leave him alone!” Fernando says firmly.  
  
“I’m sorry, sir,” Iker says with false politeness. “But this is my privilege. You can ask your husband. I have right for this every Friday.”  
  
“I said leave him alone, I won’t let you touch him!”  
  
“Fernando...” Sergio whispers suddenly, his voice barely audible. “Leave.”  
  
Fernando blinks and looks at him. Sergio’s eyes are pleading.  
  
“What?” he asks, voice breaking.  
  
“I... I want this. Please, leave.”  
  
Iker shoots a winning glance at him. He doesn’t even wait for Fernando to turn back and opens Sergio’s mouth, dripping the tincture down his throat.  
  
“What a whore you are,” he says derisively. “Selling your best friend for five drops of laudanum.”  
  


* * *

  
The sun shining right in his face wakes Fernando up. He realizes that he is lying sprawled on the bed like he fell on it the night before, staring into the ceiling until exhaustion got the better out of him. He gets up and goes to his and Raúl’s bedroom. It’s already empty. Fernando dresses himself and goes to the dining room. To his relief, everything tells him that Raúl has already had breakfast and is probably gone to the city. He would ask Álvaro if he felt like talking to him, which he doesn’t.  
  
Instead he takes the key to Sergio’s room from underneath the books. He doesn’t understand Raúl’s intentions. It would be so easy for Raúl if one day the key simply wouldn’t be there, and as much as the possibility scares Fernando, he can’t think of any reason why Raúl would let him go there and see Sergio, why he would risk Fernando would let him go. Even though right now he doesn’t have to fear that because Sergio wouldn’t go anywhere in the state he is in.  
  
When he walks in, Sergio looks at him and then hides his face in the pillow. Fernando sits on the bed but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say.  
  
“I know you are angry with me,” Sergio whispers. “I don’t deserve to be your friend.”  
  
“Stop saying such things,” Fernando dismisses him.  
  
“I... I needed it, Fernando, I... it relieves the pain, I needed it.”  
  
“I know,” Fernando nods. “I’m not angry with you.”  
  
Sergio looks up to him hopefully.  
  
“You aren’t?”  
  
Fernando shakes his head.  
  
“Why do you fear Juan more than Iker?” he asks then.  
  
“Because he...” Sergio starts, but then shakes his head.  
  
“Why did he bring you here? You told me that it was him who brought you here.”  
  
Sergio lowers his eyes, almost as if he is ashamed of it.  
  
“He... he fancied me. Years ago, back in the village. I didn’t want him. I guess this was his revenge.”  
  
Fernando gasps. He feels almost sick. When he counts the years, Juan had to be a teenager back then. In his teenage years, Fernando’s ideas of revenge were harmless traps that in the worst case caused a mild humiliation of the victim that everyone would forget about in a few days. It scares him that a teenager would do something as evil as tricking another boy into a psychopath’s house.  
  
“Maybe I deserved it,” Sergio whispers.  
  
“You didn’t,” Fernando says firmly. “Nobody deserves this. He should be ashamed of himself.”  
  
“He said if I didn’t want him, I would be everyone’s whore. You... you don’t know him, he’s by far the worst out of them all. With them you at least know what to expect.”  
  
“But why can’t he come here unless Álvaro and Iker say so?”  
  
“Because...” Sergio takes a breath and closes his eyes. “Because he almost killed me last time.”  
  
Fernando just stares at him incredulously.  
  
“Almost killed you?”  
  
“He would have killed me if Silva didn’t stop him,” Sergio shrugs.  
  
Fernando blinks.  
  
“Silva?” he asks with disbelief.  
  
He somehow can’t imagine Silva stopping anyone from doing anything. Sergio chuckles, even though the laughter is somewhat bitter.  
  
“I know, he doesn’t look like it, right?” he smiles. “You’d have to see him. I swear he almost clawed Juan’s eyes out. Master then said he didn’t want Juan to approach me.”  
  
“Everyone in this house is so sick,” Fernando breathes. “Raúl the most of them all. He just says he can’t help it, like it justifies everything, and on top of it he dares to say that he loves me.”  
  
“Maybe he does,” Sergio says quietly.  
  
“Are you serious?” Fernando glares at him.  
  
“He always talks nicely about you.”  
  
“Yes, that’s what he does, he talks nicely and then hurts people!” Fernando says angrily. “I don’t know why he married me.”  
  
“Don’t you?” a voice sounds from the door.  
  
Fernando’s heart is suddenly somewhere in his neck and Sergio instinctively pulls him closer like he wants to protect him, even though it should be the other way round.  
  
“Well, then I should explain it to you,” Raúl says and closes the door.


	12. Twelve

“My father,” Raúl begins, sitting on the bed like Fernando and Sergio are two kids he is going to tell a bedtime story to. “He worked hard, worked too much, and I almost never saw him. He spent most of the time in the city, here he came barely for the weekends, and those he used to spend hunting or meeting up with the important people from the area around here. I didn’t know him the way a son is supposed to know his father, and he didn’t know me.”  
  
Fernando keeps looking at Raúl mistrustfully, while Sergio looks rather unsure what to do. Raúl usually does other things with him than talking.  
  
“My grandfather, though, he knew me well. Knew I was... let’s say... not a family man. I had quite a wild youth and the last thing on my mind was to get married. Seeing that I was the only boy in the family, my grandfather didn’t want our lineage to die out just because I was an irresponsible lounge lizard. So in his will where he was leaving me his share in the family bank and this estate, he stated I could only get my heritage if I was married at the age of thirty. Were I not married, the bank and the estate would go to my sister’s husband, if she had one, or it would be administered by the bank’s council.”  
  
He looks at the two boys and smiles.  
  
“I’m thirty and married now. I just spoke to the family lawyer a moment ago. The bank and the estate are now mine. Thanks to you, dear.”  
  
Fernando’s lips shiver. He looks at Raúl and despite all the hate he feels for him, he suddenly feels also hurt in a way.  
  
“So you never loved me,” he states.  
  
“Loved you?” Raúl repeats, tasting the word like he hears it for the first time in his life. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone. I think I’m not able to love.”  
  
“Then what now?” Fernando asks. “You have your inheritance now.”  
  
“Yes,” Raúl sighs. “My inheritance, and the two of you.”  
  
He takes his time looking at Sergio and Fernando, like he can’t decide what he thinks about them. What he feels, Fernando decides, is not the question, because he doubts Raúl is able to feel anything.  
  
“I would be happy just with you, Sergio,” he says then. “You are sweet, Fernando, but it’s not what I need. If that stupid old man didn’t insist, I wouldn’t get married at all and everything would be perfect.”  
  
He gets up and walks to the door. He opens it and hesitates for a while.  
  
“Jesús?” he calls then.  
  
Jesús’ steps sound on the stairs almost immediately and then stop.  
  
“Tell Álvaro I will need him,” Raúl says. “He knows why.”  
  
He closes the door again. Sergio pulls Fernando closer when he hears Álvaro’s name, like he immediately suspects something bad is about to happen if Álvaro is involved.  
  
“You know, Fernando,” Raúl says. “I don’t need you anymore, now that I have what I wanted.”  
  
Fernando jumps out of the bed and looks at him, eyes burning with hate and fury.  
  
“So what now? You got your money and now you just throw me out, like a thing you don’t need anymore? With no money, but with a lot of shame to be left by a husband?”  
  
“No,” Raúl shakes his head. “I couldn’t do that, Fernando, you are right. I couldn’t just let you go like that.”  
  
The door screeches like the person opening it is unsure whether they want to enter or not. Then Álvaro walks in and looks at Raúl.  
  
“Over there,” Raúl motions to the corner of the room.  
  
Álvaro nods and walks over to the place. When he turns around, Fernando sees what he is carrying in his hand. He tries to grab the headboard for support but misses it and collapses on the floor. The last thing he sees before losing consciousness is Álvaro throwing a rope around the beam and adjusting the noose on it.  
  


* * *

  
When he comes to his senses, his hands are tied behind his back. He looks around the room and shivers. It feels like he is in some bizarre theater play, like the scene and the actors are prepared and only waiting for the play to start.  
  
Sergio is laying on the bed, hands tied to the headboard and feet bound together. Raúl is sitting next to him, leaning over the headboard as well, running a hand over Sergio’s chest lazily. Álvaro is standing behind the chair over which the noose is hanging, an almost solemn expression on his face. Iker and Juan are by the door. Only Silva, Jesús and Pedro are nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Raúl...” Fernando whispers. “Raúl, stop this. You can’t think that you can get away with it.”  
  
“I can’t?” Raúl smiles. “But of course I can. See, nobody is missing Sergio, they believed he was dead without ever seeing his body. Persuading them that you killed yourself will be even easier. You were away from home, you felt lonely here, slumped into depression. Poor boy.”  
  
Now Fernando understands why his hands aren’t tied with a simple rope but with something soft. Raúl doesn’t want it to leave marks, he wants everyone to believe that Fernando killed himself.  
  
“Go stand on the chair, Fernando,” Raúl says like he’s asking for something completely normal.  
  
Fernando just keeps looking at him, completely mortified.  
  
“You can’t mean this,” he breathes.  
  
The false compassion disappears from Raúl’s face.  
  
“Go stand on that chair, Fernando. It will happen anyway. You don’t want to prolong it.”  
  
When Fernando still doesn’t move, Raúl turns to Iker.  
  
“Take him there, Iker!” he says.  
  
Iker makes a move, almost unwittingly, like when Raúl tells him to move he will move even if he doesn’t want to. Then he looks at Fernando and stops.  
  
“No,” he says quietly.  
  
“What do you mean, no?” Raúl growls.  
  
“No, I... I can’t.”  
  
He shoots one more terrified look at Fernando and then flees the room. Raúl rolls his eyes and beckons Juan.  
  
“Get him on that chair.”  
  
Juan doesn’t hesitate. He walks over to Fernando, hauls him up and pushes him towards the chair. Sergio trashes against the ropes, as if he could tear them and stop it all, then he slumps back and starts sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
“Oh, don’t cry, darling,” Raúl says quietly, caressing Sergio’s hair. “You’ll still have me. And there will be nothing standing between us anymore. It will all be like it used to be.”  
  
Fernando looks at Sergio, at the tears running down his face. He almost isn’t scared of dying, he feels like he’s more scared of leaving him with Raúl.  
  
“Fernando...” Sergio whispers and Raúl shushes him like he is a kid crying over a thing that isn’t worth it.  
  
Álvaro helps Juan get Fernando on the chair and he throws the noose over his head, adjusting it skillfully like it’s not the first time he does it. Then Fernando realizes that it indeed isn’t the first time.  
  
“Don’t you think people will think it strange?” he asks suddenly, holding onto the thought that mysteriously appeared in his mind, onto his last hope. “That people around you hang themselves too often?”  
  
The contented smile disappears from Raúl’s face.  
  
“What do you mean?” he asks carefully.  
  
“I mean Guti,” Fernando says. “It was his name, wasn’t it? The servant who hanged himself because you forced him to do something awful. Actually, I think he didn’t hang himself, I think you and Álvaro here helped him.”  
  
“Where do you know this from?” Raúl asks.  
  
“The priest,” Fernando says. “He knows who you are, at least now he does. And knows about Sergio. If you kill me, there will still be someone who knows.”  
  
Raúl thinks for a moment, while Sergio starts shaking again at the mention of Guti’s name. Then Raúl folds his arms.  
  
“He has no proof,” he says. “Guti was a poor servant who didn’t interest anyone. There was no reason for me to kill him. And you? Why would I want to kill you? You have nothing I could possibly want. It will be just a strange coincidence. And as for Sergio, just in case Alonso wants to do something, I guess I will just have to hide him better. I should have done it before you came here. I didn’t think you were so clever. Too clever for your own good, I’d say.”  
  
Raúl looks at Álvaro and Fernando knows that he is about to nod, about to end the whole play the way he planned it in his sick scenario. He starts hyperventilating, hears his heartbeat like it’s beating right in his ears. He feels Álvaro shuffle behind him and he squeezes his eyes shut and waits.  
  


* * *

  
Suddenly with a loud crash the door flies open and a group of men that he doesn‘t have time to count, pours in. He only recognizes Father Alonso‘s familiar figure before his vision goes black. Then someone cuts the rope above his head and he collapses into Father Alonso’s arms.  
  
Through the corner of his eye he sees a group of men wrestling Raúl to the floor, another two trying to cope with Álvaro, which seems to be a quite difficult task, and another one is holding down Juan.  
  
“How did you know?” Fernando asks when he finds the ability to speak.  
  
“Jesús and Silva,” Alonso explains. “Apparently this was finally enough for them to overcome their fear from that monster. I knew it, I knew he was... if only I had a proof earlier...”  
  
Fernando shakes his head. He thinks it a huge miracle that this is all over.  
  
“Where are they now?” he asks then. “Silva and Jesús?”  
  
“At the parish. I thought I should spare them all this. These men wouldn’t really ask if they were guilty of anything or not.”  
  
“Oh my God!” a female voice sounds from the door.  
  
Fernando turns around and sees a young woman standing there. She is wearing plain clothes like most of the people from the village, but her face has something exceptional, some unusual beauty that is familiar to him. Suddenly Fernando knows who she is. Even more when she runs to the bed, embraces Sergio and covers him with kisses.  
  
“You bastard!” her sharp voice then cuts through all the voices and sounds of struggling. “You sick bastard!”  
  
She walks up to Raúl and looks at him with disgust. Then she slaps him in the face twice, so hard that his head almost falls off.  
  
“I would kill you if you were worth it,” she hisses. “But I won’t sin for a sinner.”  
  
The group of men is holding Raúl up as apparently he can’t stand on his own. A tiny part of Fernando actually wishes he was dead. But then the uniformed guards appear and take Raúl from them, but mainly, take him from Fernando and from Sergio, forever.


	13. Thirteen

Fernando doesn’t go to the trial, nor does Sergio. Fernando doesn’t want to see any of the people anymore, Sergio neither. They told their story to the prosecutor, who was horrified enough to agree that they had good reasons not to want to see the protagonists anymore.  
  
They don’t follow the trial, either. They have their own life now, or are trying to have it. It’s harder than Fernando thought.  
  
Sergio is surprised every time someone is nice to him, every time Fernando’s mother asks him if he wants tea, when Fernando’s brother acknowledges him and Fernando’s sister smiles at him. Only slowly he overcomes the fear of going out of the house, which more than fear of the people outside is the fear to leave the building, like he can’t get used to the fact that he can go wherever he wants to.  
  
They take short walks in the park, usually before dark or after the rain when there are not a lot of people. Once Fernando invites Sergio to a café to have breakfast. Sergio is so surprised to see people serving him that he almost forgets to eat and drink. Later he finds his way to at least seem normal to other people, which is mimicking after Fernando. Some of the situations it creates are adorably awkward and it’s often difficult for Fernando to keep a serious face, because he doesn’t want to embarrass Sergio.  
  
The first time they make love, Fernando is even more nervous than before his first time. It all goes smoothly, the kissing part and the touching part, even though Fernando feels a bit uncomfortable touching Sergio, fearing that he would do something that would trigger bad memories that would remind Sergio of Raúl. Sergio notices it soon enough.  
  
“You are not him,” he whispers. “I know your are not him. Don’t worry.”  
  
Fernando calms down a little bit, but then looks at Sergio and bites his lip.  
  
“I’ve... I’ve never been...” he starts.  
  
To his surprise, Sergio grins at him.  
  
“On top,” he finishes for Fernando. “Me neither.”  
  
Fernando just stares at him for a while, unsure what to do.  
  
“You want to try it?” Sergio asks with an almost mischievous smile.  
  
“You... you’d let me?” Fernando asks.  
  
“Of course. If you let me try it next time.”  
  
Fernando blinks and tries to think of something intelligent to say, but then realizes it’s probably not the right moment to say intelligent things. Sergio, upon seeing his face, starts to laugh and pulls Fernando down on him.  
  
Fernando tries to be as careful as possible, but by the time he adds the third finger, Sergio whines in frustration.  
  
“Just do it already,” he whispers. “I won’t break.”  
  
Fernando doesn’t want to think about the meaning behind those words. But he removes his fingers and looking for Sergio’s final nod, slides inside him, for the first time in his life having his cock surrounded by a different heat than just that of someone’s hand. He gives Sergio time to adjust but moves before he can complain again. He leans forward and captures Sergio’s lips in a deep kiss.  
  
“You now kiss for real,” Sergio smiles at him.  
  
“I am all for real now,” Fernando says.  
  
Sergio wraps his legs around Fernando’s waist and pulls him closer. Fernando matches their rhythm until they even breathe with the same frequency. For the first time he feels like this, feels a connection between him and Sergio, something that makes this something more than just sex.  
  
“I didn’t know it could be like this,” Sergio whispers when he lays his head on Fernando’s shoulder.  
  
“Like this?”  
  
“This nice.”  
  
Fernando smiles and kisses him slowly.  
  
“I love you,” Sergio whispers.  
  
Fernando looks at him.  
  
“It’s the first time someone said this to me,” he whispers. “I mean... not the first time, but... the first time someone meant it. If you mean it.”  
  
“Of course I mean it!” Sergio says.  
  
“I love you too,” Fernando smiles. “And I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.”  
  
“I know,” Sergio nods.  
  
He falls asleep in Fernando’s arms, like many nights before, but now for the first time, no nightmares wake him up.  
  


* * *

  
Shortly after the trial, Father Alonso comes to Fernando’s family’s house. Fernando can see the surprise in his face. When he last saw them a few months ago, they were nothing more than scared young boys, but they changed fairly.  
  
Fernando has lost a lot of his naivety and the attitude of an innocent young boy. Sergio has his hair shorter now and the clothes he is wearing make him look like any young gentleman from the city. He greets Father Alonso, but then closes himself in his shell, just drinking tea and listening, the way he always does when there are people talking.  
  
“You didn’t go to the trial,” Father Alonso notes.  
  
“No. I didn’t want to see any of them. I hope they are all rotting under the ground,” he says.  
  
“Well, all are not.”  
  
Fernando’s lips shiver.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean Raúl. He’s not even in prison.”  
  
“They... they let him go?” Fernando yells.  
  
Father Alonso sighs deeply.  
  
“He comes from an estimated family and he’s rich. He managed to convince the judge that most of it was the work of the servants. I don’t see how the judge could believe it, though, unless someone bribed him for good. But you know, some important people owe Raúl a favor. And Sergio is just a poor boy,” Father Alonso sighs. “The judge only ordered Raúl to pay a significant amount to you and Sergio as compensation. That is actually why I am here. Raúl asked me to deliver the check as he was sure you and Sergio wouldn’t want to see him.”  
  
“Does the judge think that everything he did to Sergio can be compensated by money?” Fernando asks incredulously.  
  
“He had to give at least some kind of punishment, or else people would start doubting the justice.”  
  
“I am already doubting it.”  
  
“I know,” Father Alonso smiles bitterly. “I’ve doubted the human justice all my life. Luckily we still have the justice of God... and before God, he won’t get away so easily.”  
  
“So what happened to the servants?” Fernando asks.  
  
“Well, Álvaro and Juan they caught practically with the rope in their hands, so they got the death penalty right away. Iker saved himself by refusing to help them kill you, the judge commuted the sentence to life imprisonment.”  
  
“And the others?”  
  
“Pedro argued that he didn’t know about anything that was going on in the house. And well, Sergio also never mentioned him. As for Silva and Jesús, nobody was sure if they could even accuse them of anything. From what it looked like, Raúl himself knew they were no more as devoted as the others. He would likely get rid of them right after you, and luckily Jesús realized it in time. They are in Sevilla now, I think. No wonder they want to be as far from it as possible. I left that land myself. Somehow I don’t feel like I did my mission right there.”  
  
“You did everything you could. I just can’t believe they simply let Raúl go like that,” Fernando shakes his head.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Father Alonso says. “He will not come close to you or Sergio. He knows he was lucky. I would say he will disappear somewhere nobody knows him.”  
  
“If he comes close to us I will kill him,” Fernando says.  
  
Father Alonso frowns disapprovingly.  
  
“You would only go down to his level,” he shakes his head. “God asks us to forgive even our enemies. I now realize that it’s the hardest thing He asks from us.”  
  
Fernando looks at him as he gets up and reaches in his pocket.  
  
“Here is the check,” he says.  
  
“I don’t want it,” Sergio speaks for the first time. “I don’t want anything from him.”  
  
“Me neither,” Fernando nods. “Give it to some charity, Father. You will know where they need the money.”  
  
Father Alonso smiles and nods. Then he shakes Fernando’s and Sergio’s hands.  
  
“Good luck to you both. You will need it.”  
  


* * *

  
The following spring, Fernando’s grandmother dies, leaving him the house in Fuenlabrada.  
  
Fernando doesn’t have to decide for long. He knows it’s the opportunity for them to start a new life, to get away from all the memories, to try to if not forget, then at least not to think about what they went through.  
  
They send their things to Fuenlabrada in advance and hire a carriage for themselves. When they leave Madrid, Sergio looks out of the window.  
  
“Do we have to take this way?” he asks in a tense voice.  
  
It’s the road that passes the land in which Raúl’s mansion stands.  
  
“We will not come close to that house, I promise,” Fernando says.  
  
Sergio slumps back in his seat and squeezes his eyes shut like he is afraid Raúl will come out of the dark and take him away. Fernando knows it’s not likely to happen, but in a way he understands Sergio’s fear. He doesn’t feel good himself when the familiar hills appear in front of them. Sergio snuggles to him and hides his face in Fernando’s shirt. Fernando holds him all the way, when they pass the mansion and the village, until they reach the road that leads out of the land.  
  
None of them notices the lights in the windows of the mansion.  
  


* * *

  
Raúl unlocks the door and walks in the dim room. His steps on the floor make a strange, distinctive sound. He still limps, even though he doesn’t use his cane anymore, at least not when he’s home. Walking up the stairs is a torture, but his soul burns more than the injured leg.  
  
He has forbidden himself to think about Sergio. Still, sometimes the rage overcomes him. Five years of work, all gone. He was close, so close to breaking him. He would make him a prisoner in his own mind, there would be no need for a lock on the door anymore. But then Fernando came, provided Sergio with hope and ruined all his effort. Devoted and reliable servants are gone as well. He has new ones, but less of them, and he’s still not sure how much he can trust them. Due to the scandal, his bank lost a few important clients. He’s not on the verge of going bankrupt yet, but not far from it either. At least he still has the mansion.  
  
He looks at the boy on the bed. He’s younger than Sergio, his hair is darker, face different. He’s not Sergio, and it irritates Raúl. But at least he has the same eyes, trusting and sparkly once, but now frightened and pleading.  
  
There are chains locked around his wrists, attaching them to the bed. Raúl knows that in a few months, they won’t be necessary. It was the same with Sergio. He fought at first, pleaded next, and finally resigned.  
  
The boy’s body is bruised, not badly in Raúl’s opinion, just enough to make him remember who he belongs to now even when Raúl isn’t there. He doesn’t want to use all his tricks at once; he always keeps something for the next time. Even though now the boy thinks he can’t take any more, he will prove him wrong next time. He’ll make him know his limits, he’ll push them further. He knows how to do it.  
  
He sits on the bed carefully, taking care of positioning his bruised leg right, and touches the boy’s face. His big brown eyes open wide and he looks at Raúl, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to scramble away, get out of his reach. Raúl knows that they are in the pleading phase now.  
  
“Were you looking forward to seeing me, Javi?” Raúl asks with a smile.  
  
No answer. Raúl sighs deeply.  
  
“You should answer me when I ask you a question,” he says patiently. “When you don’t, I might get upset. And when I get upset, it’s never good for you.”  
  
“Please,” Javi whispers. “Let me go. Please, I won’t tell anyone about this, just let me go home, please.”  
  
Raúl chuckles, caressing his face and wiping the tears rolling down the boy’s face.  
  
“Home? You are home here now,” he whispers. “Safe and mine.”


End file.
